


Mixed Tape

by VampyricRose



Series: Mixed Tape [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Blood Drinking, Breathplay, Depression, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Human, Light Dom/sub, Mile High Club, Piercings, Recreational Drug Use, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 210,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22161508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampyricRose/pseuds/VampyricRose
Summary: Mixed Tape is a collection of Spuffy centered stories inspired by a wide variety of songs that I listen to and have connected with different aspects of their relationship. Each chapter is a different song and although some of the stories may connect, mostly they will stand alone. Hence the name mixed Tape. There will be stories based in all seasons and post series.
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers, Tara Maclay/Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris/Anya Jenkins
Series: Mixed Tape [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942207
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	1. What If I Never Get Over You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello All!
> 
> Being as this is my first time writing fanfics in a long long time, I felt like I needed to make an introduction.  
> My fiancee got me into Buffy about half a year ago telling me that I'd love the series (and proceeded to tease me mercilessly for never watching it while it still on television) And he was right, I was completely hooked. There were 3 times I actually stayed up all night binge watching it (especially once Spike had come into the picture) even though I had work the next day. To say I fell in love with Spike and Spuffy is an understatement. 
> 
> I immediately started scouring fanfic.net, A03 and recently found Elysian Fields in search of any and all Spuffy fics and was delighted to find such an amazing group of people putting out the best in literature I'd ever read. You all have helped me get back into writing again, which I appreciate in and of itself. 
> 
> What If I Never Get over You- Set post series. Buffy tries to move on from him after his death, tries to date, but finds that she can't. Everything always comes back to him and how desperatly she misses him. Meanwhile in LA, Spike tracks down the Psycho-Slayer but winds up getting hurt. When Andrew calls Buffy to tell her Spike's alive she immediatly makes her way stateside and the two are finally reunited.

“What If I Never Get Over You” by Lady Antebellum  
~  
What if I'm tryin', but then I close my eyes  
And then I'm right back, lost in that last goodbye?  
And what if time doesn't do what it's supposed to do?  
What if I never get over you?  
Maybe months go by, maybe years from now  
And I meet someone and it's workin' out  
Every now and then, he can see right through  
'Cause when I look at him  
Yeah, all I see is you

~

It has been two hundred and one days since the almost apocalypse at the Hellmouth. Almost twenty-nine weeks ago, there had been a town called Sunnydale just north of Los Angeles which was nestled in between deserts, too many cemeteries and a short trip away from the beach. Although really, when did she ever get a chance to actually enjoy that? The forces of evil and darkness couldn't give her one lousy weekend in the California sun to just relax and work on her tan? Nope, it had to be all slaying and no fun in good ole Sunnydale. Sure, there had been a few great times mixed in with the hundreds of deadly encounters, not to mention the half dozen apocalypse's, but the ratio of fun to death was extremely low here.

Buffy sighed heavily, slipping into a cute little number she had purchased recently for the special occasion tonight. She wore a form fitting sleeveless dress that came down to her delicate ankles with a thigh high slit up the left side. As she pulled it over her toned form, she smoothed out the rich blue fabric with a slight smile on her face. His blue. She'd seen it in the window of a cute little boutique while perusing down the busy streets of Rome and knew she had to have it. It was like looking into the cobalt blue depths she knew and loved and missed with every fiber of her being.

It had been just about six months since his heroic sacrifice. And honestly? She was still just as morose. Time hadn't been doing what she'd hoped. Oh, she had continued with her life. After the destruction of Sunnydale, there was nothing tying her to California. There was still Angel, who was only two hours away by car, but even after he had been filled in about the avoidance of yet another apocalypse, he made no move to either come down and see her or have her come visit. He was too busy with the takeover of the known evil law firm Wolfram and Hart. For someone who told her he was always in love with her, he never seemed to be around when she needed him. Big surprise.

After they had escaped the crater that was now Sunnydale, the band of remaining Slayers and Scoobies tended to their wounded and celebrated their diversion of the apocalypse the for the next few days before getting back to the harsh reality that was the life of a Slayer (and friends). Giles quickly arranged it so that the remaining Scoobies, sans Anya, and all the SiT would fly out of the country and back to England effective immediately. Here the plan was to regroup and to start a base of operations, funneling all the newly called Slayers across the world, giving them refuge and starting their training immediately. You never know when the next apocalypse was to burst through your door right?

Even then as they were coming together an organization, the gang of friends started to drift apart. Giles stayed in his home country with Andrew. The two of them started working on the rebuilding of the Council and Andrew became a Watcher in training under Giles's expert knowledge. The little twerp, finally with some purpose that didn't include cowering or sitting in a friend’s basement watching Star-Trek reruns, took to the new role and training immediately. Many of the SiT stayed here for a while, honing their skills, welcoming the new girls and getting used to life as a not so normal teenage girl.

After Willow's spell, hundreds of potential girls across the globe began to awaken as Slayers. Some of the veteran girls, rather than staying put in England, acted as field agents who traveled the world upon hearing the news of a possible Slayer and shipped out to retrieve her. Under Giles' guidance, Andrew headed this part of the new Council. Currently, they were investigating a potential that was possibly located in good ole Los Angeles, California. But thinking of California no longer brought her any happy memories. As of late when she thought of it, it only brought back memories of him.

She sniffled, wiping her dewy eyes with the back of her hand and grabbed the tube of mascara laid out on her vanity and began to hastily put it on. She couldn't afford to think like this, not tonight. She couldn't have her makeup run before she'd even gotten out her door. So, while she continued to put her makeup on, she willed her thoughts to stray to the other Scoobies instead. After the Council had been reconstructed, Willow and Kennedy had disappeared off to South America. Rio de Janeiro to be more precise. She hadn't heard much from her since then. They spoke occasionally, but it was mostly about business and although she had tried to repair her relationships with the other members of the Scoobies, she found it was becoming more and more difficult.

Likewise, Xander had left soon after the rebuilding of the Council. After the destruction of Sunnydale and the death of Anya, he became, well, much like her. He was sullen and distant and once the Council was up and running, he quickly left. He never was able to cope with the fact that he was the only non-magical human in the group. The last she heard he was somewhere in Africa, off mourning Anya. Why Africa? Hell, if she knew. She'd spoken to him even less than she did with Willow. Guess it had to do with the lack of phones? Although it looked like mobile phones were on the rise. That was a plus.

There were always those movies that depicted the group of friends that although try as they might drifted apart after high school or college or whatever, but Buffy never thought she and her friends would be like that. They had been together for so long and been through so much together. They had been the outcasts, but they always had each other. Ever since her death though, even without being able to feel much, she could feel them drifting away. Xander poured himself into work and Anya and trying to forget just what they had done by bringing her back. He never was quite the same after that. And Willow? She'd changed more than anyone. Magics had changed her. Magics and death and tragedy. There was only one person after that who'd managed to stay close and she had treated him like he was nothing. Again, with the not helpful thoughts.

The only person who she had regular contact with from her former life was her sister Dawn which she wouldn't trade for the world. Right now, Dawn was her anchor. Buffy found herself in the same trance like state she had been in after she'd been brought back from the dead. Alive, but not quite living. The destruction of her old life, the drifting of her closest friends, the loss of the one she loved most, she was struggling again to get through her days. Unlike the first time Buffy had acted like this, Dawn was now a pro at acting like a supporting sister and although the first couple months were extremely rocky, the Summers sisters persevered. She wasn't sure if she would have made it without the support from her little sister. Having her be in her final year of school and worrying about normal high school girl things helped Buffy to get a handle on her own life. Be more responsible. She felt as though she needed to after she failed miserably the first time around. The Summer's girls shared a small apartment in downtown Rome. It was within walking distance of Dawn's high school and it wouldn't be far of a drive to whatever college she decided upon. Likewise, Buffy had an easy commute to her job at the Rome base of operations where she continued to teach the Slayers their combat skills.

She liked it here. For the most part it was friendly and although she still couldn't speak much Italian after nearly six months of being here, she could get by. The weather was similar to California which helped her settle in much faster than if she had stayed in England where she seemed to find it always cold, raining and gloomy. She also didn't think she could be around so many British accents and not think of him every moment of every day.

She finished putting on her makeup and stood from the vanity, walking briskly to her closest. After a few moments of searching she turned from her room and peeked her head out of her bedroom door.

“Dawn!” She called. She waited a moment but heard no response. She was sure her sister was home “Dawn! Where are my blue heels! I know you took them!” She yelled, flustered because she was already running late. It was happening a lot more lately. She found that every quiet moment alone she found herself thinking more and more about everything and everyone she had lost.

After another few moments of silence she sighed with frustration and stomped down the hall which lead to Dawn's room. She rapped on her door before opening it quickly. Dawn sat on her bed cross legged style with books, pencils and her CD player laid out in front of her. She was quietly tapping along to whatever song was playing through her headphones. At the sudden intrusion of her sister, she removed her headphones and glared at the intruder.

“What do you want Buffy. I'm kind of busy”

Buffy made a face. “If you didn't have your music up so loud, you would have heard me shouting at you from down the hall” She gestured towards the CD player. “You’re going to go deaf if you keep listening to that thing so loud”

Dawn crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. “I'm fine”

Buffy shook her head. She knew she should lecture the girl, but she was already running late and in a hurry.  
“Fine. Go deaf. Can you tell me where my blue heels are first though? I know you have them. They aren't in my closet”

“I didn't take your shoes” She replied flatly.

Buffy in turn rolled her eyes. Typical teenager. “Dawn. Now. I'm leaving soon and I'm already late. This is kind of important”

She watched as Dawn's face softened. “Oh yeah. Your big date is tonight. I almost forgot about that” She uncrossed her legs and slid off her bed, briefly pulling back the curtains to her room and looking out into the bustling city, the sun was just starting to set. She turned to look back towards Buffy who blankly stared out the window as well, the dimming sunlight catching her verdant eyes making them seem more golden than green. She caught the brief look the flashed across her sister's face. It was like every time the sun went down, she expected things to change. That somehow, he would be back, strolling through their door, back into their apartment and into their lives. She frowned and grabbed the blue strappy heels from underneath her bed handing them to Buffy.

She took them staring at her sister with a far off look in her eye and forced a smile. “Thanks, Dawnie. I gotta finish getting ready”

Dawn nodded and her “Is he picking you up here?” She asked

“Yeah” She paused “Yeah he should be here soon. We're going to dinner. I shouldn't be out too late”

“Your allowed to stay out late you know. Get tipsy! Have some fun!” Dawn spoke cheerfully. “But don't get too drunk” She spoke once again folding her arms over her chest. “I don't want to have to take care of you tomorrow. It's Saturday and I'm planning on having fun with my friend’s tomorrow”

Buffy sighed “Don't worry about me. There will be no excessive drinking. Me and alcohol? Not mixy” She said with a smile. Dawn returned her smile and turned to climb on her bed.

“See you later then” She replied, slipping her headphones back in and once again busying herself with her schoolwork.

Buffy stared at her sister for a few moments. How normal. To have a conversation one minute and just return to what you were doing without a second thought the next. Her sister was not bogged down with the weight of her thoughts of all those she had lost. She hadn't lost someone so important to her that the world felt empty without his presence. God he was the most...arrogant, annoying and childish vampire...no...man...she had ever come to know but god did she miss him more than anything. She stared blankly at the wall behind her sister for a few moments before the weight of the shoes in her hand dragged her back to reality. She turned to leave the room and softly closed the door behind her.

She returned to her room, glancing at the clock on her wall for a moment. 7:53. He would be here any minute. She made her last-minute adjustments, slipping on the pair of matching shoes and fiddling with her blonde hair. She decided after a few moments to leave it down for the night, covering the scar that although he probably didn't notice but she could always feel. She turned from her room, grabbing her handbag and turned off the light to go wait in the kitchen.

~

She stared at her date from across the small table with a smile on her face. She had met Ciro through her work with the Council. His younger sister Carmen had been one of the girls to be called after her big stunt six months ago and sought refuge with them in England. She was a sweet girl, scared out of her mind at her sudden strength and abilities, as well as the forced interaction with creatures that no one had believed to exist. Protective of his little sister, Ciro followed her to England and stayed with the Counsel, watching the progress his sister was making as a Slayer.

When Giles announced that more branches of the Watcher's Counsel should be constructed across the European continent, and the rest of the world, he thought it best that Buffy and Dawn oversee the construction and maintenance of the Rome post. The sisters were happy to get away from England and now here they were almost six months later. Ciro and Carmen were from Rome, so it was only natural that when the Rome post was up and running, they returned to their home city. Dawn quickly became friends with Carmen and through a lot of convincing and late-night sister talks, managed to coerce Buffy into going on a date with Ciro who was obviously fond of her.

So here she was, nearly six months later, staring into the face of the man in front of her. As reluctant as she was at first to even start thinking about dating, she was quite happy with the way things were going. He was intelligent and kind and despite some of her protesting, he treated her like a princess. Lavishing her with kind words, gifts and most importantly, affection. He was sweet and tender with her and not once did he raise his voice to her, never made a move to hurt her, never even called her out. They went on normal dates. They went to the movies and to see traveling shows. He took her around the city to explore all the historic sites and museums she had heard so much about while she was still in school, and boy did she feel like a tourist. They spent time in the sunlight, dancing outside and drinking in the beauty of the Italian countryside. So, when she looked up at him, tall, handsome, with a dark complexion and the sweetest brown eyes you'd ever seen, why did it feel so wrong?

She tried not to do the comparison thing. Tried with every fiber of her being to not notice the difference in height and how Ciro towered above her as they stood next to each other when she was used to being closer in height and comfortably fitting underneath the chin and tucked away securely in her vampires’ arms. She tried not to point out that while Ciro was dark and smooth like coffee and became bronze in the sunlight, she missed the alabaster skin of her vampire and how he shone like silver under moonlight where she spent most of her time. She wished she could stop seeing the radical differences in the clothes, the stride, the body and the attitude that were so painfully different in Ciro compared to Spike. But the thing she could never stop comparing were their eyes. Ciro's eyes were painfully sweet and a deep rich chocolate like the mocha's that she and Willow were so fond of back when “The Coffee Shop” still existed. She felt like melting when she gazed into them, like the same chocolate she was always reminded of. They were comforting and had made her feel loved and alive and real again during her worst days. But no matter what she felt when she looked into them, all the good feelings that came with it, they were not his.

They were not the haunting blue that she was used to. They did not change colors like his. They did not change from steel gray when he was stable and even, to the dark sapphire that swallowed his iris when he was dark and dangerous. They didn't change to sky blue when he was faced with fear and filled with the few tears she'd seen grace his face or shift to a rich cobalt as he took her in with his all-consuming lust filled gazes. Spike eyes were as dramatic, over the top and mercurial as the man behind them. Ciro's were nothing like his. They were static. Stayed the same warm chocolate brown no matter the mood he was in. She did not feel the all-consuming gaze she associated with Spike when she looked into Ciro's eyes. Like he was reading her every move, knew her every thought, could anticipate her every desire. She missed that more than anything. The understanding and true connection she had when she looked into his eyes.

A voice snapped her out of her trance like state.

“Senora” It softly spoke from across the rustic table. She focused, realizing that she was holding her silverware mid movement to snatch up some of the delicious food from her plate. He had taken her to their favorite restaurant. A small little bistro in the alley of one of the many streets that made up the maze of Rome. On her plate was a delicate piece of poached Bronzini in a rich butter sauce with a side of pasta that had been seasoning with garlic, herbs and white wine. She carefully set down her silverware and wiped her mouth delicately before grabbing the stem of her wineglass filled with a complimenting Sauvignon Blanc.

She regarded him with a smile  
“Sorry Ciro. I guess I just lost myself there” She replied sweetly.

He smiled back gently, raising his own wineglass and held it out so he could delicately clink it with her own.  
“It is okay. The fish is good no?” He asked

“Very” She nodded

“I am glad you like it. Would you like to look at the dessert menu?” He asked, finishing up his meal and placing his silverware on his plate.

Buffy loved chocolate. She loved sweets in general, but chocolate was her favorite. But somehow after staring into the chocolate brown eyes sitting across from her all night and consumed by the thoughts in her head, she didn't feel much like chocolate.

“No. Thank you Ciro” She replied, finishing her dish as well as the rest of the wine in her glass. It wasn't as sweet as she liked her drinks, but it went nicely with the fish. She frowned, thinking back to the times she shared the harsh liquor that Spike had liked to drink. Woody and sweet at first, like liquid caramel, but the burn that followed it made it unbearable to her. Well, that was before. Now she found it somewhat tolerable as of late. She found herself experimenting with it more, trying to force herself to appreciate the rich oakiness and the hot alcohol burn that she associated with it and with him.

“Why don't we just head back to your place” She suggested.

He smiled, giving her a knowing look and nodded. “Anything you want Senora. Let me just pay the bill and we'll be off”

She didn't respond to him, her gaze drifting away from him, the rest of the crowded alley and the bustling streets and overlapping voices. Everything faded away. It always did. She found herself in another trance. She was back there again. She came here a lot in her thoughts and in her dreams. She pictured the minerally cavern walls of the caves below the school, deep in the Hellmouth. The battle raged on, shouting everywhere, swords clanging against walls, claws slicing through the air, the snarls of the Turok-Han. Amidst all the fighting she felt oddly calm. With her ancient weapon perfectly balanced in her hands she tore through the ranks of the ancient vampires. More kept coming. Cut one down, another three sprang in its place, like a hydra head. But she didn't care. Her weapon, an extension of her very soul sliced through one with its diamond sharp blade and pierced holes in two more. Dust clouded the air around them as the Slayers around her awoke and fought back the night.

Then pain tore into her, and she unconsciously clutched the wound the sword made when it impaled her right side. It wasn't the first so called 'mortal wound' she had received, and it would probably wouldn't be her last. She'd come back from worse. Hell, she'd died twice, three times if you counted when she got shot. But all of that was nothing compared to what was to come. Through the deafening sounds of the battle she could hear him calling her name in desperation. She turned to him, only to see a golden beam of light funneling through his chest, right where the amulet was. She had to get to him. Pushing her way through the bodies of Slayer and vampire alike she made her way towards him. The beams now cutting through the darkness of the cave like spotlights, incinerating all Turok-Han around them until none remained alive. Suddenly the cavern started to shake and trembled and she felt herself wobble in the real world, trying to adjust and regain her balance even though the streets here were still. She made her way to him, framed in golden light and noticed how aged and tired he looked compared to his youthful punk looking self. His normally tightly slicked back curls looked soft and unkempt and he gazed at her with the strangest look she'd ever seen, like he had given up. He hadn't. She knew now he was more resolved than ever to do the right thing, to save the world. Knowing full well that he was going to die in the process. He'd accepted his death. She hadn't.

Throughout their last couple months together, after he'd returned from getting his soul, she spent many a night contemplating what all of this meant. What it had started out as, what it evolved into, what they had gone through and what their relationship had become at the end. She wasn't sure when the change happened. Maybe it went back all the way to when they made their truce to stop Angelus from destroying the world. She still couldn't pinpoint the moment when she was truly convinced that she was in love with him. She tried. She tried to tell him then, when he was dying and knew that he was leaving her. It wouldn't have gotten him to stay. He'd said it himself. “I mean it. I gotta do this”

“Gotta move, lamb” He'd told her. That was the first time he'd ever used that pet name. His vocabulary was filled with them and a bunch of other silly words. And out of all the silly pet names he'd called her, it was never that one. She didn't know why this one was so special to her, maybe because it was one of the last sweet things he said to her.

“Think it’s fair to say, school's out for bloody summer” He'd followed up with. If she could manage a scoff, she would. She never understood any of his music references. His tastes were so drastically different than her own, growing up in a different time period and all would make a big difference wouldn't it? After six months of trying to convince herself to dive into the music that he so very much adored she found she still couldn't. She was still so raw from the loss. Maybe she would try to tomorrow.

“I mean it. I gotta do this”

The words echoed constantly in her head. He'd thrown his hands up in defiance, like a child trying to make a point. She still couldn't understand. Why had he felt the need to do this? Why, after she'd begged him to leave, that he'd done enough. Why couldn't he walk away from this? Now she'd never know.

“I love you”

They were such small words. Three syllables making up the most powerful sentence in the human language. That's what life is all about right? Wading your way through strangers, people who have the potential to be someone special to you all to find the one person who means more to you in the world than anyone else. She thought that she had found that in Angel at first. Dark, mysterious, forbidden, he'd shown her an innocent love that to this day she still treasured. He may not have been perfect, okay so he was far from it, but he was her first and so he held that spot in her heart. The innocent Buffy who'd just wanted a normal life before truly understanding that it was something she could never achieve.

She thought Riley was her real chance at that. A normal college boy. Someone who was sweet and loving. Someone she could go on dates with while the sun was still up and make love to when the sun went down. Someone who had a heartbeat. Riley was normal and she could entertain the thoughts of growing up and growing old and having babies and a white picket fence with him. But at every turn her life had shown her that a 'normal' life was something she was never meant to have. Not the kind she was thinking of anyways. Of course, he turned out to be not normal. Human, but nothing like the true nuclear dream that she was chasing. The day Riley left was the day that cemented into her being that she was never going to have a normal life, that the life of a Slayer had destined her to never know true love and to die alone miserably, probably at the hands of one of the creatures she seemed to favor.

“No, you don't. But thanks for saying it”

She wasn't sure if he told her this for her benefit or his own. She could see the resolve in him. It didn't look that much different than her own when she was on a mission to save the world knowing the consequences. Dawn had given her the same look, fed her the same lines when she begged her not to go, not to jump through the portal, that they could find another way to prevent the dimensions from collapsing into each other, even though the damage was already being done all around them. There was no time. A decision had to be made. She had made hers. Just like he made his. It didn't hurt any less. He didn't look like his heart was breaking when he'd said it. Honestly, she wasn't sure if hers had either when he rejected her, but that was then. And now her heart always felt like it was breaking. Sometimes she woke from her dreams, her nightmares, with an aching so badly in her chest she felt like she was dying again.

A touch on her bare shoulder snapped her back to reality. Lights and sounds filtered back in. She was able to smell pastries baking down the street and other smells of the city rather than the dank smell of the collapsing caverns. Still his words always came back in echoes,

“Gotta move, Lamb” “Think it’s safe to say, school's out for bloody summer” “I mean it. I've gotta do this.” “No, you don't. But thanks for saying it”

She was right back there in that cave hands entwined, set on fire, burning them both straight down to their souls. She still had the scar to prove it, that it really happened. She looked at it often with reverence and sometimes caught herself spending more than a few minutes stroking the smooth white tissue bearing the memories of their last moment together. After all this time, she was still right back in that last goodbye. She could feel her eyes welling with tears again.

“Let’s go Buffy” Ciro's heavy Italian accent broke her out of her thoughts and as she shakily rose from her chair and braved a look into his face, she knew that he could tell her thoughts were not here in this moment. He only smiled and took her hand, leading her away from the restaurant and down the street towards his place.

~

It was only a short walk back to his place. For the time being, Buffy tried to push out all invading memories from her mind and focus on the now. She needed to be in the here and now. Ciro was quiet beside her, never saying anything even though she knew he was hurt. She didn't mean to. She liked Ciro a lot, and he was here and alive and wanting to be with her. He opened the front door to his modest apartment and allowed Buffy to funnel in first, a gentleman through and through.

“Are you feeling better Buffy?” He asked softly.

She had stopped crying, and for the time being her mind was clear of anything painful. She gave a small smile and nodded.  
“Yes. Thank you” She replied and set her handbag down on the kitchen table. He was already moving in the kitchen, preparing the French press for some late-night coffee. She stood in the doorway, watching him move gracefully throughout the kitchen. He also pulled out some strawberries and cream from the fridge and set them on the counter.

“Maybe a little dessert here?” He asked her, fetching a knife from the drawer.

He was always so thoughtful. She knew he wouldn’t accept no for an answer, and she supposed strawberries sounded good.

“Sure” She conceded.

She watched the smile overtake his face as he began to thinly slice them on a wooden cutting board, watching the sweet red juice stain the wood below. It almost looked like.... no.  
Stop thinking about it.  
That part of her life was over. She was done thinking about blood and gore, ghost and ghouls, werewolves and vampires. She only needed to think about them when she was working, which she sure as hell wasn't doing right now.

When she glanced up again, he was pouring the cream into a heavy glass bowl and whisked it quickly, beating up the cream to stiff peaks. It took several minutes and although he knew she had super strength and almost unlimited endurance, he never once asked her to help. Never treated her like anything other than a normal girl. He folded the cream into the strawberries and offered them to her in a shallow dish, accompanied by a small fork and a cup of espresso. She took them and they ate in silence. The sun had completely set and when they were done their late-night treat, she took him by the hand and lead them into his bedroom.

They had done some fooling around before, but she had never let herself get to this stage in their relationship. Now seemed like a good a time as ever to try and move forward, when her head was for the moment, clear. She led him to the edge of his bed and gently pushed him backwards so that he sat down. Stepping forward into the gap between his legs she wrapped her arms around his neck, grabbed the hair at the base of his neck with her left hand, cupped under his jaw with her right and kissed him. His lips were warm and soft and moved eagerly against her own. When she begged entrance, they parted easily. She stroked his tongue with hers tasting the contrast in bitter coffee and sweet cream, and he rumbled appreciatively underneath her. She pulled away with a content sigh. This was nice. Really nice. His hands settled on her hips and rubbed up and down her sides gently.

“Unzip me” She commanded in a low and hungry voice. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her exposed cleavage with a soft chaste kiss that sent a shiver down her body. With his head cradled between her covered breasts she leaned her head down and kissed the top of his head, feeling his hand stroke her back and gently tug the metal zipper down as far as it could go. She then stepped back and without the zipper to hold it in place, the dress puddled around her feet at the floor in one fluid move.

Without the dress she felt exposed. The design hadn't let her wear a bra, not that she really needed it, and left her in only her pair of matching navy lace panties.

“Bella” He whispered to her quietly resuming the stroking of her sides. His fingers splayed wider, pressing into parts of her hips, parts of her back and kneading into her shoulders. When they got high enough his thumbs ghosted over the sides of her petite breasts and brushed over sensitive pebbled nipples. She moaned softly, the feeling going straight down to her clit. He continued to press soft circles into her until she was whimpering above him.

“More” She moaned out writhing above him, trying to break his grip. She needed to feel more. She looked down at the soft smile on his face and returned it with one of her own. This was soft and simple and exactly what she wanted. Right? His fingers drifted away from her sensitive nipples and down her sides again, tickling her sides and drawing his fingers along the soft skin of her tummy. She chuckled lightly, not used to be tickled on purpose and brushed his fingers away quickly before she busted out laughing. He attempted to tickle her again, but she let out a humph and forcefully pushed his digits away from her stomach once and for all and down to her thighs where she was really craving touch.

He seemed to have got the message and used his thumbs to hook around her panties and dragged them down her long-toned legs. She stepped out of them and kicked then away to meet her dress on the floor. Bared before him he stroked her skin and smiled. She paused and waited, for anything. Something. But it didn't come. There was no commentary, no sound, no erotic rumble of words to define her nakedness. Just silence. She frowned but he didn't seem to notice. God there was something missing here.

With all her clothing removed she gazed down upon the fully dressed man sitting beneath her. She pushed him backwards to the head of the bed and climbed over top him breathing in deeply.

“Come on baby” She coaxed. “Let's see all of you” He grinned at her and removed his shirt quickly, unbuttoning it with haste and throwing it off to the side. He wore a gold chain around his neck, with a Virgin Mary pendant that was nestled in the hair upon his mocha flesh. She had seen him without his shirt before and she always found it jarring how.... nope...not now. Not thinking about him now. But as she ran light fingertips over the exposed skin of his neck and shoulders, down his chest and through the hair there, how could she not? He was built nothing like him. Ciro didn't look bad; he was quite good looking. But... But there were no hardened pecs graced with dark nipples, no washboard abs that had been developed from over a century of fucking and fighting, no thick corded biceps powerful enough to pin her down and hold her up in seemingly gravity defying positions. Oh god I'm doing it again. She mentally slapped herself. She had to get out of her own head. This was progress, this was moving forward. It was different, but it was just as nice.

She needed to focus, taking it as slow as she was doing now was only letting her brain fill in the gaps and attempt to change her mind. She wouldn't let herself go down that road. She stopped him from unbuttoning his slacks and placed her hands over his.

“Not fast enough” She whimpered grasping at the fabric, frantically trying to rip away from him. She got the button undone and started pulling at the fabric needing to get it down his legs, over his hips. “Need more. Need all you. Need your...” She was cut off by a finger against her lips.

“Buffy. Slow down. We have all night senora” He spoke.

Her hands stopped fumbling with his pants which she had managed to get halfway down his thighs before she realized she wasn't getting them down further without him moving.

“You don't understand. I need this now” She whimpered. “Ciro..” She drew his name out in a long moan. She rocked against him wantonly pressing her groin over his and pressed her breasts against his chest.

“Buffy” His voice was strained but he remained firm. “It is the first time. It should be special”

She pouted “And it will. It will be special. Super special. But right now, Ciro I need your cock in me Need to feel you” She whined.

He made a displeased face.

“What?” She asked, starting to get a little annoyed.

“I did not expect you to be so crude Buffy” He explained. She pushed herself away from him and knelt between him legs

“Crude? I'm hardly been crude. I'm telling you what I want” She explained. She watched his eyes travel down her naked form, lingering on her heaving breasts but not really straying past that. It made her feel self-conscious. Was he not looking down there because he didn't want to? Because it wasn't worth it? She'd made sure to clean up, especially for tonight, although it had never been an issue before.

“I understand, but it is hard to hear these nasty words come from your mouth. Let there be no more talking” He advised as he set into motion, sitting up, gently grabbing her shoulders and pushing her down against the mattress.

No talking? She thought to herself and she felt her brow furrow. How does that even.... but how do you...? How will I know what you want? What your feeling? If I can't tell you what I want from you.... how will you know what feels good and what doesn't? Do you not care?

Did he care? In this moment, she wasn't sure. She certainly didn't feel like he did.

He always cared. He may have teased and tortured her and kept her on edge for hours, but she knew it was because he cared about her. Her mind drifted again, back to days long since passed.

She was pinned against his sarcophagus, underneath his hard body, hips being ground into the stone in frenzied desperation. She cried out feeling the unmistakable hardness of his through his tight black jeans. From above her she heard his dark chuckle. “Was the matter luv. Somethin' you want?” She mewled in return, arcing her hips up into his. He knew what she wanted, but he was doing that thing again where he wouldn't give her what she wanted unless she specifically told him. It was just so embarrassing, so she just nodded up at him instead. She could almost feel that cocky smirk of his “Oh no luv. You have to ask for it” She continued to writhe below him but made no attempt to speak and she felt his cool breath against the shell of her ear “You want my cock in that sweet cunny of yours yeah? All you gotta tell me. Say the word Slayer and I'll give you exactly what you want” And he grinned wickedly at her.

A shudder went through her entire being and she found herself holding the moan brought on by the memory of a ghost. She caught the grin across Ciro’s face. Oh god. He thinks I'm reacting to him. God I’m such an awful person She thought to herself as he slid himself up her body. He kissed his way up, leaving butterfly pecks against her skin. Closed mouth and sweet, they lacked the passion she was used to. But that didn't matter anymore. She could get used to this. When he reached her throat, he attempted to kiss his way up the left side. NO! The word blared in her mind in capital letters and exclamation points. Not his side. Never his side. She knew he never had claimed that side, claimed her at all, but dammit it felt wrong to let anyone but him touch the parts of her that hadn't been marked yet.

She quickly turned her head, forcing him to kiss up the right side if he wanted to continue his path. He didn't seem to notice a difference and she felt the relief drain from her body. He kissed up to her ear, taking the fleshy lobe into her mouth, breathing heavily but quickly moved on and traveling back to her lips. But...nothing? What a wasted opportunity. He was always whispering dirty little things in ears and she never realized how hot they had gotten her until now. There was no auditory stimulus. He barely made his own sounds of pleasure and she found the overall silence...unsatisfying. Normally she was soaked by now and he would be right there to make the crudest comments about it, which only made her wetter.   
God’s luv, that all for me? Your so wet for me. Can't wait to taste. All mine that is  
She groaned aloud again, which luckily coincided with the pad of his thumb against her clit.

He kissed her again, capturing her lips and she devoured them, sucking his lower lip between her teeth and biting down. He withdrew with a whimper and fear flash across his face and his finger withdrew from her sensitive bud.

“That hurt Senora. Do not do that again please” He begged and found herself only able to nod back at him.  
So, I guess roughness is off the table then? Where's the fun in that? He moved back into kiss her softly. Oh god. Now I'm going to have to be careful not to break him.

He pulled back from her lips and smiled.  
“Ready Buffy?” he asked her sweetly.

Was she? She knew she needed this to try and move on but if the past half hour has taught her anything, it was that this was making it even harder. She knew she could say no, could stop it right here, but she didn't want to be that girl. But she didn't think she could do this with him anymore. This would be the first and only time this would happen and after she had sex with Ciro she would have to break his heart because once again she couldn't bring herself to be happy, to be normal. Instead she wanted nothing more but to crawl into bed with the memories of a ghost.

“Yes” She answered simply. She felt his hips shift and align with hers and then he was sliding in. She gasped at the intrusion. It wasn’t unpleasant and although she had gone years without sex before, the past six months had been the hardest. He was hard and filling within her and she rocked back against him matching him stroke for stroke. She realized he didn't slide smoothly in and out of her, that there was a tinge of pain, chafing that she wasn't used to because although she was turned on, she wasn't as soaked like she normally got during sex. She realized that it was because there had been no real foreplay, no getting each other off before the main event. She hadn't even looked at him down there. He shuddered above her and buried his face in the crook of her neck moving in long steady strokes, drawing himself all the way out before sliding back in. He set a gentle rhythm and she wrapped her legs around his waist to angle him deeper. It felt good. And the realization dawned on her then that she never got to experience this with him.

She felt the tears welling up and rapidly tried to blink them away, tried to stay in the now. But how could she? She had denied herself this with him. She had denied him the chance for this because she was afraid of her feelings and how the rest of her friends and family would react. If this kind of sex. No. Lovemaking. If this kind of lovemaking could feel this good with someone who after six months barely knew her or her preferences, and didn't seem to care to explore them, then what could it have been like with the man who understood her on every level. Who didn't need to speak to understand what she wanted? Who anticipated every movement and worshiped every sound? The guilt of it washed over her.

She felt him quake and shudder above her and knew that he was close. She could read that about him. But she was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn't think she could even come close to reaching her own peak and for some reason, that was okay with her. She had demanded it before. Before he could take his own pleasure, she needed to finish or the whole coupling was utterly worthless. Because to her, at that time, he was nothing to her. Just a way to feel alive for a while. She was concentrating so hard on not squeezing him too tightly. She knew that Riley hadn't been able to handle her incredible strength and that was when he was still super solider, hopped up on steroids. The only people that could take her were.... well...those who didn't mind a little pain with their pleasure. Who were a little less than human. So, she held back and when she heard the intake of breath above her, she knew he was there.

“Principessa” He moaned above her and at the same time in her mind she heard “Slayer” rumbled through her in a low tenor growl. The man above her pulled out suddenly and felt his spending splatter against her toned tummy. He shuddered and finally stilled above her; the room silent save for his heavy breathing. After too long a pause, he raised himself on his forearms and smiled at her. She gave a small smile back, if only to be polite but knew that this would never work. It terrified her because as much as she had always wanted a normal life, a normal love, she was convinced then that her love with him was her one and only shot at being truly happy. And she'd realized it too late and he'd rejected it. In that moment she looked deep into Ciro's eyes and saw that he knew it too.  
~

It was barely noon and he was already on his way to being sloshed. The bottle of twelve-year Lagavulin he was nursing was already half drained. Hell, the bottle would most definitely be gone before the sun went down and he was back to being the hero of the people. He'd just claim it as a business expense and send it right back to the king ponce himself. That'll show em.

He honestly didn't know why the hell he was even up. Hello? Vampire. Creature of the night and all that rot. He couldn't see the sun, but he feel it was out. He should be sleeping, should be curled up in the tiny ass bed that tosser Lindsey had provided him. What was with that anyways? Won't be sharing a bed anytime soon? The pillock didn't know a bloody thing about him, did he?

Obviously, he does mate. It's been near half a year since the Hellmouth. Months since...her. Yeah you were incorporeal for a tick but that's been over and done with for months. Could ‘a had loads of birds here by now if you'd really wanted

But he didn't, did he? Sure, after nineteen bloody awful days of being a ghostie he'd jumped on the chance for a shag. You couldn't blame a bloke. Thought his poor prick was doomed for all eternity. He couldn't even enjoy a good wank the near three weeks what with the hands just phasing through everything, including his own bloody body. He didn't think he'd ever get to again, ergo Harmony. She was a good scratch for the itch he'd had, but she didn't mean a goddamn thing to him. The vapid bint never did. It was just a thing he did because he could feel again. He didn't regret it because hey, still kind of evil here.

But now it was nearly six months later and he'd yet to prove Lindsey wrong. The only action that little twin bed had seen since he first started 'living' here was his own fist and once, a very awkward game of poker that he played with some gents from the pub down the street. He knew that he should move on. Knew that he had made his choice the moment he came back from the dead. From life? From unlife? Bugger it, when he'd come out of that bloody amulet, that he could have let her know that he was back. But he didn't did he? He had his pride, right? He'd made his bed, now he had to lie in it. He had himself an eternity to deal with the consequences. And so he tried not to think about it. He tried not to think about anything really. And since there was no fucking of which to take his mind off, he focused on the fighting. But he couldn't go out and fight right now could he? Hence the scotch.

So here he was pacing around the tiny basement flat, glaring at the walls and their stupid blue color, glaring at the tiny kitchen he barely touched, glaring at the sodding floorboards, just glaring in general, carrying around the bottle of scotch. Why? Because he was so incredibly bored. And he hated being bored. He'd finally went out and gotten himself a few small comforts to keep him busy and pass the time. First had been the telly, he'd missed enough Passions already, but he knew for a fact that there was nothing good on this time of day. The other purchase he'd made had been the vinyl player. He loved listening to music, and he'd seen the thing in the window of a retro store. He doubted the kids who ran the place even knew what it was. He could of went with a stereo, but he'd lived through all the advancements in music playing tech and he guessed the old man was coming through, it was a beautiful machine. So he 'acquired’ the vinyl player as well as a few records. The Sex Pistols, The Ramones, Dead Kennedy's, The Clash, Subhumans, Morrissey, The Smiths, even a Beatles record.

He wanted to be out there punching something, breaking something with his fists and tearing into some unfortunate beastie with his fangs. Nothin like getting out there and 'fighting the good fight' whatever that bloody well meant. His thoughts started to drift. Fighting the good fight. Taking out the bad guys. Slaying demons and members of his own race and going against everything he was because that's what she would have wanted him to do. Needed him to do.

But Buffy was god knows where, anywhere but here. He'd never asked the great ponce or anyone else where she was and what she'd been up to. If he knew, he'd likely go to her in a human heartbeat.

He missed the hunt. Missed letting his demon have full control. If he started killing again, turned back to his true nature, she'd be none the wiser. She didn't know that he was even here. He'd made sure that no one told her he was back. Not like it was any skin off Angel's back, he'd never wanted him around her anyways.

The city was a cesspool filled with shit and piss and there were hundreds of vampire attacks in a weeks’ time. There was little doubt in his mind that he could get away with going back to his old ways. As long as he didn't live up to his moniker, his attacks would be no different than any other bloke's or two-bit trollop's off the street.

But regardless of all those facts, he couldn't bring himself to do it, leave or kill. He dragged his free right hand away from the side of his body and clutched the center of his chest. Not with the soddin soul burning a hole in there. The damned thing wouldn't let him do anything without making him feel like ripping his own heart out and repenting. He hated the damned feeling of guilt, hating feeling like he was back in that goddamn church pouring out his guts. He could still hear all the screams. Gods the screaming. How many victims had there been? He'd never kept a body count, but it was probably in the thousands. Hell...it was probably in the tens of thousands if he was being right honest. Those first couple decades had been one never ending blood bath. It never used to bother him of course. It was what and who he was. Now he couldn't go a day without remembering. His head was never silent, never calm.

“Stupid git” He muttered to himself before taking another long swig from the bottle. The damn scotch had lost its burn ages ago. To be fair, this was top of the line stuff, so it was rather smooth anyways and he cursed himself for his expensive taste in booze because he'd stopped being able to feel it ages ago. He felt cheated out of the magical property of numbness that the excessive drinking of alcohol used to supply. It sucked having a high inhuman tolerance. Yep. Definitely going to need a second bottle before nightfall. Or maybe he should just sleep...

He often thought about whether he'd made the right choice. Nineteen days after nothing but darkness he could have told Buffy he was back. Well...not him physically, as it took him days to even brush a coffee mug, let alone hold a telephone. And it’s not like Angel was going to help him out. The great ponce would do everything he could to keep him away from her. But he could have gotten Fred to do it. The girl was sweet, intelligent and unlike everyone else in this building, didn't hate his bloody guts. She was an alright bird in his book. But he decided not to. It's what Buffy would have wanted. She'd wanted a hero, right? So, he'd decided to keep her in the dark.

But gods did he miss her. Those last few weeks after he'd come back after getting this bloody soul, minus the times he'd been taken over by The First, they'd been the best weeks of his life. And it all culminated to that night. That night when he'd poured his heart out for her, really told her how he'd felt about her, and she'd listened to him. That's what made that night so special, so unforgettable. He had tried to tell the stubborn chit so many times before how much he loved her and how much he really cared for her, but she always fought him on it and told him he wasn't able to feel anything. But that night, he knew she'd truly listened to his words and it was the single greatest feeling he'd ever known. He'd give his left nut just to experience it all over again, to see the look on her face, to hear her ask him to stay there with her, to curl around the tiny tired body of the woman he loved and just hold her. To be so in the moment that it never once mattered to him that that was all they did that night.

He missed her. He missed the stubbornness that rivaled his own, missed the utter devotion she had for her friends and family, missed how determined she was in every aspect of her life. He missed her strength and sorrow, her love and hate, and her selfishness and selflessness. He missed the sounds she made when she was enraptured in pleasure, the sight of her above and below him, the smells of her skin, her hair, her cunt. He missed her kindness and anger. He missed being able to watch her fight, it was an art form, her art. More than anything he missed her light, her fire. Being here, away from her for so long, it did nothing for the darkness within him that was ready to rear its ugly head at any moment. He needed her light, her fire because once again he was afraid of what would happen if he were to lose it.

“That's not your world. You belong in the shadows...with me” He'd told her that once. Tried to take her away from the light and pulled her into the dark where he thought she'd belonged. He'd been such a berk, trying to drag her down like that. Christ it was the other way around.

He pulled the bottle to his lips again and took another generous swig. When he pulled it away, the bottle felt significantly lighter and he found it was empty. With a snarl he chucked the bottle against the wall into the corner of the useless kitchen. It shattered upon impact, sending shards of glass scattering. He'd clean it up eventually. Not like he to worry about entertaining anyone anytime soon as Lindsey had so callously pointed out.

He stomped over to his piss poor excuse for a bed, unceremoniously stripped himself of all his clothing, pulled back the covers and slipped in between the sheets. At least he had a decent buzz going. Maybe he could catch a little kip before the sun went down. He planned to be out all night again. He'd gone longer without the luxury of sleep before but being a 'kept vamp' gave him the ability to sleep whenever and however long he wanted. As he laid his head down upon the not so comfortable pillows, he folded his arms under his head and tried to force himself to sleep as fast as he could. It was the only way he could avoid his worst memories.

Currently it was the last memory he had before everything had gone dark for nearly three weeks. He had no idea where he was during that time. Couldn't say if it was heaven or hell or something in between. Maybe both? Neither? Not one sodding clue. All he could do was relive those last few moments repeatedly.  
He could feel her hand slowly intertwine with his. It was so small, so delicate, but her grip on him was so firm. As her fingers curled against his, he couldn't help but look down and stare in wonder. His hand suddenly felt like his chest. Burning. On Fire. They were literally sparking flames. He gazed at the fire between them and dragged his gaze to hers. The look on her face said everything. He could see she was in pain, not just the physical from the fire consuming her hand, but the pain behind her eyes as the truth had dawned on her. Her eyes became wet and shiny with unshed tears and the she was speaking. Her voice was so sweet, so sad, so soft.

“I love you”

Those three words. The three words he'd been waiting years to hear her say to him. All he'd ever wanted was her affection, her love. And instead of returning them like he yearned to do, he rejected her because he knew it wasn't real. He was dying and she knew it. 

“No, you don't. But thanks for saying it”

What a complete and utter wanker he was. Here she was, bearing her soul to him finally, letting herself give over that one last piece of herself she was convinced she didn't have, and he'd basically told her fuck off no you don't. No wonder he couldn't bring himself to tell her he'd back all this time. He'd  
bolloxed everything up and he severely doubted that she'd wanted to see him again without driving a bloody stake through his cold, undead heart.

Oh, but he would give his right nut to see the look on her face, hear those three words tumble from her lips again. Wait a minute? Was he givin away all his manly bits here? Soon enough he'd be like that nancy boy ponce and he'd stake himself before he let that happen.

He forced himself to close his eyes and clear his mind. He could resume his self-loathing another time. Had plenty of time for it after all, an eternity even. Now it was time to get a little bit of hopefully dreamless shut eye before nightfall.

~  
He could feel him before he'd even set foot in his flat. There was something about his presence that he couldn't get a read on and while it didn't scare him, it made his even more cautious. Shipping him to Angel? Making him corporeal? Giving him a flat? There was no way that this didn't come without a price. He'd been around a bit long enough to know he was being played with. So, when his front door creaked open, like he was attempting to sneak up on the creature of darkness lurking within he glared at him from across the room.  
“What do you want?” He barked from across the room, sitting up.  
“Should have known you'd sense me” The man chuckled, closing the door behind him “A master vampire like you?” He watched the man's eyes dart from the pissed off vampire to the kitchen and the what remained of the bottle  
“Did I miss a fight?” He asked conversationally.

A beat.

“What the bloody hell do you want you tosser? Can't you see I'm sleepin” He reached over to the bedside stand and snatched up his carton of ciggies, quickly lighting one.  
“Doesn't look like you are anymore” He retorted. He moved away from the door and moved to lean against the table in the center of the room. His boots crunched over some of the glass shards and he swept some of the larger glass chunks away.  
“Besides. You have work to do”

“Yeah? And wassat?” He drawled, breathing out a heavy cloud of smoke. “Some ponce getting mugged? There a slag who needs protectin?...Please...I've got better things to do mate”

“This is different. It’s a Slayer” He spoke, giving him a knowing look.

His eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Say what?”

“Not THE Slayer. Not the one you’re thinking of anyways. She's not even on this continent. She's...”

“Don't rightly care where the bitch is” He spoke quickly, cutting him off. So, she wasn't stateside. That made it better. He didn't like that he knew she wasn't here but the less he knew the better. If he knew where she was, every bit of restraint holding him back would tear to shreds. “Case you haven't heard, there's loads of Slayers now. Before I died, there was already near three dozen of em. Red saw to that”

“I heard. As far as I know, there's hundreds of them now, across the globe. Your Slayer, her Watcher, the witch? They all started a new Council. They've got bases all over the world” He explained.

So that's what she's been up to. Her and the librarian, Red and the whelp, no doubt the Bit too. Building something from the ground up and gathering all the stray Slayers like little kittens. Do doubt training them too. He briefly wondered where she'd taken up residence. Not in the States. Probably somewhere warm though. She deserves somewhere warm.

“...you hear me?” He heard a voice say and he dragged his wandering mind back to the droning in front of him.

“Not a lick. But if it's really that important, you can go again, and I'll try and pay attention. No promises though”

Lindsey shook his head “I said this one is really different. From what I've been told, there's this girl who's been locked away in the local psych ward for years”

“What so special about some simple in the loony bin?”

“Her entire family murdered in front of her...” He started and was immediately cut off.  
Spike rolled his eyes and groaned ripping the sheets away from his body. He gracefully swung out of bed, unabashed by his lack of clothing and stomped over to the chair containing all his clothes. “Oh cry me a river. I've heard a hundred stories like this, done it myself a few hundred times. So, the raver is traumatized by mum and da being ripped to shreds and now the bints on so many pills she don't know which way's up. Failing to see the difference”  
“Here's your difference. The girl was abducted, tortured and raped. For months they think. Well one day, they find her wandering the streets all by her lonesome in a catatonic state, barely functioning”

This earned an interested look from the vampire. He was a lot of things back in the day. He was a murderer and had even partook in his own fair share of torture, hence the moniker. As a general rule, he didn't discriminate when it came to his victims. Blood was blood. He preferred women but he'd just as quickly seduce a man in the pursuit of a good shag and hot blood rushing down his throat. He'd murdered families too. Mum, da, nanny, the little ones. No one got away. But there was one thing he never let himself do. Angelus had teased him mercilessly for it. Maybe it was the poncy poet within him or the shred of humanity he'd be cursed with, but he could never rape em. Kill them he did. Slashing their little throats open and gobbled down their sweet innocent blood was all well and good. But rape? He couldn't do it. That was Angelus's gig.

He thought of Drusilla. His black beauty. His dark princess. Poor bint never had a chance. Her purity had brought out the monster in Angelus. Now she was seein’ stars in broad daylight inside buildings and talkin’ to pixies.

“She gets brought here and up until a few months ago, she's practically comatose. But then something out of nowhere causes her to wake up” The tattooed man pauses and gives a knowing look in Spike's direction.

The realization dawned on him quickly. Let no one say that William the Bloody was stupid. “She's a Slayer” He spoke and the look on Lindsey's face confirmed his suspicions. He slid into his black jeans, tucked himself away quickly and buttoned up. Within seconds he threw on his Docs and slipped into his duster.

“Right. You point me in the right direction, and I'm gone” He spoke, grabbing the carton of cigarettes from his bedside table and slid them into the left pocket of his duster.

“Ah Ah. You can't just run off. You don't even know what I'm asking”

“Lemme guess. The girl's escaped and you want me to find her and bring her back?”

“Well....yes. But you have to be careful. Not only is she a Slayer, she's out of her mind. Word is, she's been slipping in and out of multiple languages. Languages that she had no way of knowing because she's been in a coma for so long. She's unpredictable and highly dangerous”

“If you haven't heard mate. Slayer of Slayers here. I think I can handle myself”

“Spike, you haven't killed a Slayer in decades. You tried to kill the last one, but...well...we see how that turned out didn't we” He chuckled.

He bristled and growled in response. “Keep talkin like that and I'll tear out your guts an make you watch”

“You won’t. You can't. Not with that pretty little soul you got there” He gestured towards the center of his chest.

“Don't think you can use that bollocks against me. Don't got a muzzle anymore, the chip's gone. I can do whatever I bloody well feel like doing. Soul or no soul”

Lindsey moved towards the seething vampire and clapped a hand on his shoulder.  
“You won't” He spoke softly, giving him a half smile before turning on his heels and making his way towards the front door. When he reached it, he paused before opening it and glanced backwards.

“Nice vinyl player by the way. Best way to listen to music in my opinion. Brings a bit more you into the place” He commented and then he was gone.

Spike angrily made for the door. Within seconds he was throwing it open, nearly tearing the cheap thing off its hinges. As he trudged through it, he immediately noticed that the man was gone. Couldn't even get his scent. Just disappeared. There was something off about the tosser. He quickly lit up a cigarette, the nicotine calming him a bit and started heading off towards the psych ward. He had a bit of a walk so he might as well get moving.

So, the girl was a Slayer eh? And not just any Slayer. A Slayer who'd lost her marbles and had recently woken up from a coma. Poor chit. She likely had no idea what was going on. One minute she'd being overly medicated and forced to live in a tiny room, the next thing she knows? She's got super strength, super healing and now she's dealing with a completely different kind of monster.

At least she wouldn't have a whole lot of experience fighting. He'd say that would make it easier to take her down, but he knew better from experience that it wasn't the case. He'd seen the change happen when all of the girls had gone from being Slayers in training to the full blown deal. Right in the middle of the epic battle it was and damn it wasn't a glorious thing.

He'd always had a love for Slayers. Right. Maybe love wasn't the best word. He only loved one Slayer in particular. He'd always had a fascination with Slayers. Ever since grand pappy had tried to scare him by telling of their existence, he'd sought them out. He wanted to prove himself against such a strong foe, the vampire equivalent of the bogey man. He'd never been afraid though. He used to believe that being afraid made you weak and William the Bloody was not weak. After two decades of searching he'd found his first.

Each dance had been to the death. Deadly and passionate. One wrong move and it was all over. Couldn't compete with those odds. The first chit, the Chinese girl, their dance was coordinated, graceful, almost a sort of by the books encounter. One two three. Step, dodge, lunge, step, feint, step. Like they were rehearsing a deadly waltz. It was how he was able to beat her. She fought like she was taught. No style. No flair. It didn't mean his victory over her wasn't just as sweet. He'd told Buffy he'd had some sweet ones once. That night being one of them. It was the first time he'd ever tasted the intoxicating elixir that was Slayer blood. Thick, heady and with a hint of some exotic spice. The scent, the taste of her blood consumed him. He felt invigorated, powerful and they weren't kidding when they had it was an aphrodisiac. He'd never been harder in his life up until then. After Drusilla had come and got him, he couldn't say how long he'd shagged her into the ground...and the pillar...and there might have been a table involved too.

After that first taste he was hooked, and for the next eight decades he sought them out. In those day's it was much harder to find them. He'd hear whispers and rumors through the demon grapevine about a new Slayer getting called, but the poor girlies never lived long enough to go and find em. He'd heard of a Slayer who'd been called one day and killed the same night. And most of them were so green they didn't last more than a year or two. It didn't help that many of them were in other continents and he was kind of in a big-time vampire gang at the time. Ever heard of The Whirlwind or the Scourge of Europe? He was bloody infamous, so sue him. He never gave up looking though, and once the Scourge had left Europe and he'd gone to the rat hole that was New York City, he would finally get the chance to fight another.

Nikki was nothing like the Chinese girl. Where the first Slayer was telegraphed, Nikki was unpredictable. Like he had told Buffy so many years ago, she had a bit of her style and he could have gone all night with her. Not to mention she was hot. He'd had to been blind to not acknowledge that. Her skin was as rich and smooth as a decadent cup of caramel coffee without the sickly sweetness he found that accompanied such a drink. She had a succulent figure too, large breasts, tapered waist and with hips that flared wide and drew his attention straight to them. True, he generally preferred his women slender and petite, but he never discriminated. Their dance had lasted most of the night and had changed locale more than once. They'd started in the park, jiving under the pouring rain until her little sprog, one that would attempt to kill him much later, had broken up their fight.

He should have killed them both right then and there but chose instead to tactically withdrawal as to fight her alone where it wasn't so wet. It was much more satisfying when he had managed to take her down in the tiny subway car buried deep underground. He reveled in the life and death dance; she'd very nearly dusted him more than once. But unlike Buffy, Nikki's strength didn't come close to his.

As they were wrestling on the ground, holding herself above him in those final moments, he could feel her muscles trembling with over exertion. Heard her heartbeat going way too fast. Tasted the carbon dioxide pouring out of her mouth as struggled to take in breath. She was exhausted, not taking time between their fight in the park and their fight here to recover. And that was what did her in. He reveled in those final moments, the hurt in her eyes, the fear, witnessing that death wish that all Slayers had. Feeling the smooth skin of her neck under his fingers and the hearing the crack that followed.... he’d ridden the high of that moment for what seemed like forever. Only after she'd been dead and he'd taken his trophy, the precious duster had he allowed himself to taste her as well. Still just as powerful and stirring as the Chinese girl's blood but instead of that exotic Asian spice, Nikki's blood tasted rich and buttery, like soul food.

He reached into the pockets of the duster and fished out his carton of ciggies. Placing it between his lips, lighting it and taking a deep drag with the fluid grace of doing it thousands of times before.

“Runnin low again” He mumbled to himself sticking them back in his pocket. He'd been smoking so many of them lately and he supposed it was because he was stressed. There was no question of why either. His Slayer.

Twenty years after he'd defeated his second Slayer and earned his second title, he'd found himself in Sunnydale. Drawn to the power of the Hellmouth in hopes to restore his dark goddess. He'd traveled across the world and lo and behold, also found his third Slayer. Bonus! Who knew it would change his life forever? He hadn't been in good ole Sunnyhell for more than a few days when he found out that the girl was here, some slip of a thing with one hell of an attitude. He'd had to find her.

From the moment he saw her dancing in her pathetic excuse for a teeny bopper club he was drawn to her. He'd felt her out as soon as he stepped foot in The Bronze, an over packed cesspool that oozed dirt and teenage hormones. He knew it by the intense buzzing feeling in his blood that told him Danger! Stay Away! But he was always the rebel, wasn't he? It had seemed that she had not quite developed her ability to feel out his kind as she was blissfully unaware of him circling her. His gaze zeroed in on the young Slayer and found that he literally could not draw it away. She was unlike anything he'd ever seen. Thoughts of his sire had momentarily vacated his otherwise stunned brain, blood rushing away from the thinking organ and straight to his cock. He always followed his blood, and she was a vision. A sweet young innocent thing, ripe and ready for picking. He watched the way her body flowed fluidly to the upbeat song in the background as she danced around with her friends.

He stalked her like the predator he was, moving with sinewy grace through the crowd so he could gain different angles of her, each new perspective proving that she was in no way two dimensional. She was thin but shapely and he had no doubt the muscle that was concealed beneath her tight looking jeans. Her hips swayed seductively, and he did not fail to notice that she wore no bra beneath her curve hugging top. He had a plan dammit and he'd been ready to say sod the plan, fuck the girl. His brain practically screamed it. But he could manage to be patient and so he continued with his plan, but not after getting a good long eyeful.

And then he watched her from the shadows. The tosser of a minion he'd sent out as bait was no match for her, but he'd be able to watch her fight. That had been glorious as well. He always loved watching and fighting the chosen birds. There was literally nothing else that got him harder. Well that's what he'd thought at the time anyways. Turns out he was wrong about that too, because after that it had just been her.

His relationship with Buffy had always been complicated. He'd wanted to kill her yeah, but it was the first time in his life he'd wanted to find out if fucking a slayer was just as good as fighting one. They were both dances after all, and he was exceptionally good at dancing. In the beginning he regretted his decision in forming the truce with her against her honey bear. He was so jealous of Angelus at the time and so desperate to get Dru's affection back that he would have done anything. Including working with the enemy. And what he thought as a romantic and noble gesture towards his sire had only caused her to scorn him, turn him away

The human side of him was desperate for attention, for affection. He did anything he could to replace the feeling of attachment to someone else when his mother was gone from his life. He'd thought Drusilla had filled that role and for decades he was devoted to her care. Loved her with every fiber of his being. When she'd turned him away, fornicating with other disgusting lesser creatures to get back at him, it had torn him apart inside. Sure, he played it off, but it hurt more than he could bare. He hadn't wanted to accept that he felt anything other than lust and hatred for the young Slayer. Drusilla was his princess but after the conversation in South America, he found his resolve wavering. Those bloody visions of hers. Bug shagging crazy she was, but very rarely had she been wrong. He realized that she had prophesied more than just his love for the Slayer that night. Her words haunted him for the longest time.

“Your lying! I can still see her floating all around you. Laughing. Why? Why won't you push her away.

Why didn't he indeed. He didn't know what was so special about her. She was young, immature, impulsive, fiery, driven, gorgeous.... dammit...his thoughts were getting off track.

“You can't blame the girl, Spike. Your covered in her. I look at you...all I see is the Slayer”  
“I have to find my pleasures, Spike. You taste like ashes”

It had always been a love hate relationship until that last year they were together. He knew better than to think that the times before he had gotten his soul were anything but hate, fear and lust. Even though he didn't want to believe it, he knew he was being used. He'd done his best to try and convey his feelings the best way he knew how. But he'd been dealing with Drusilla for the past century, whose idea of love was a complete one eighty from the modern and the very much sane girl he was trying to court now. He bolloxed a lot of things up.

If only for the hope that maybe one day, something would change, and she'd realize her feelings. And for the sex. As much as he hated himself for continuing down a road he didn't want to follow with her, he was too much of a coward, too enraptured at being able to give every pleasure to her that he knew of to try and keep her around.

He scoffed to himself.

And it worked, for some time. A satisfied rumble rolled within his chest at the thought of the couplings they'd shared. Every moment he was able to spend with her, teaching her the wicked ways of pleasure, burying himself within her with tongue and cock, being able to bring her to unknown heights were moments he treasured more than anything. She was such a pliant, eager young thing. Able to take everything he gave to her and to give back just as much. Being with her was a bloody revelation, made him feel more than he had before. Gods there was so much more that he had wanted to teach her and experience with her, but she'd never given him a chance. It was always business. She'd come to him, they'd fuck, they'd fight, and then she'd leave. It was fine for a while, but every time she walked out the door of his crypt a little bit more of the hope he was searching for died.

So, in those last few months when the walls between them finally started to crack, you can't blame a bloke for being a bit skeptical of her confession. He knew that the catalyst behind her change of heart was the soddin soul. After...it had happened, he didn't think there was anything he could ever do to make his way back into her life, let alone her good graces. But something in her had changed, something within them both. For him, it was the peaceful acceptance of who and what he was. He'd always known who Spike was. Vicious, unrelenting, cunning and lethal. But in all the years he'd been alive, he'd never accepted William as being a part of him as well. He thought that the blighter was buried under all the blood that he'd spilled over the century. But Buffy had brought the poet out and he hated himself because it scared him.

“You faced the monster inside of you and you fought back. You risked everything to be a better man. And you can be. You are. You may not see it, but I do. I do. I believe in you Spike”

Looking her in the eyes then, the beginning of true trust that radiated from them, he couldn't help but be overwhelmed by her. She may not ever love him, but he could die happy knowing she trusted him. And he had. Died. For her, for the world, but also for himself. In the end, it was something he had to do. Shoving her proclaimed feelings in her face still made bile rise in his throat, but he knew he couldn't let her love him in the end. As much as it hurt him, made the burning in his chest that much worse, it would have hurt her even more if he'd allowed her to love him at the end.

What he hadn't expected was to come back not but three weeks later. Clearly the PTB, or Lindsey or whoever the fuck was up there screwing with them all, had something else in mind for him. It hurt him, not telling Buffy he was back. It ripped him open, left him raw, knowing that he was lying to her. But after everything, the girl deserved a break. Deserved something of a normal life. Now that there were hundreds, maybe thousands of Slayers now, he imagined that she'd be okay to take off and try and be normal. Go back to University, play sister to the Niblet rather than a mother, date some pulser who wouldn't break her heart.... though her track record wasn’t off to a good start, maybe even have some sprogs of her own.  
He knew it was going to hurt. His own heart still trying to fix itself after being such a wanker to her. But he had to move on. Not just for his sake, but for hers too. So, he put as much effort into being the hero. As much as he hated Angel, the rest of the lot wasn't half bad and there was a great deal of satisfaction from fighting the good fight. The flat was rubbish, what with its small bed, but there were a great many luxuries that were available to him that made life worth living. All the blood he could get, and not that pig swill he'd be drinking back in Sunnydale, human blood. All legal of course. Either expired or from willing donors.

There were days that were worse than others. Some days he was more resilient towards his choice of letting the best thing that had ever happen to him go. He ignored the clawing in the back of his mind and in his heart that threatened to shred him from the inside out and focused on literally anything else. Other days, the waves of guilt, loneliness and anger overtook him. Those were the days he spent the night away drowning himself at the bar or in the bottle at home. For the most part he had resigned himself to forever morning the loss of such a beauty, such fire in his life. He'd never had anything as good as her and he'd live with that forever until he dusted.

His thoughts pulled away from his pity party as he looked up to the towering building in front of him. He was finally here.

~

He stepped off the tiny metal elevator and immediately burst into a chuckle

“Well fancy this” He turned his head and looked over to none other than the great ponce himself. Seemed like he wasn't the only one who had been told about the girl. He caught the eye roll from his grand sire and walked briskly to catch up to him.

“Bitty slug I saved you from scramble your brains after all? Come to check yourself in?”

“What are you doing here Spike” Angel groaned

He so loved getting under Angel's skin. The berk just couldn't get over that he wasn't special. That he wasn't the only one with a soul now. Not only that, but the only other vampire to have a soul also happen to be one in his line. One that had also had a relationship with the same woman. One that was obviously hotter.

“Didn't you get the memo? Hero of the people now” He answered cockily

“Oh, then go and annoy them” He retorted

“When I'm done here. Got me a mission. Heard the girl got out” He spoke with determination. He wasn't about to let Angel take this one away from him.  
“Yeah and I'll get her back without your help” Angel paused and turned to him with a questioning look on his face. “How do you know about her?”

“Got my sources” He answered. He didn't care that Angel hadn't trusted him since the day he turned, but he had enough survival instinct to avoid a dodgy situation. He wasn't sure what Lindsey's involvement with Wolfram and Heart and with Angel was, but he doubted it was anything good.

“Right....well.... why don't you head back to your source then? I've got this taken care of” He answered quickly.

“Do you now?” He looked around at the broken gates and panicked doctors around him. “Way I see it, doesn't look much like the girl's back safe and sound. And being as I'm the one with two Slayer kills under my belt I...”

“What are you talking about Spike” He spoke cutting the English vampire off, trying not to relay the look of shock that flashed across his great blocky face.

“Oh....” Spike drawled with a cocky grin and chuckled darkly. “You don't know do ya” He examined his face, looking for any flashes of emotion across the older vamps’ ugly mug. He looked flustered. Like teacher had asked a question that he wasn't ready to answer. His mouth gaped open as he tried to come up with a response.

“What they didn't tell you? Our bird here is a Slayer. Was called when Buffy and Red made with the mojo and promoted every bitty Slayerette into the real deal. So not only is the poor chit bleeding bonkers coming out of being in a coma but now she's also got an insane drive to kill beasties like us” He explained and watched the emotions roll off the normally emotionless face that was Angel.

“Funny innit? You’re the head of the most powerful company in Los Angeles. 'Prolly the world. An evil company I may remind you and yet you had no idea she was a Slayer”

“This doesn't change anything Spike” He spoke finally “I'm still going to be the one to go and find her” He paused “If she really is a Slayer, this makes this a hell of a lot more delicate. I'm sure if Buffy and the other's found out we'd killed a Slayer, even if she's insane and tries to kill us, the new Council wouldn't take it lightly. We'd likely be in a lot of trouble”

“Mate. Dunno about you, but we've both always been between a rock and a hard place when it comes to Buffy”

“And I don't know about you, but I don't feel particularly compelled to be at the wrong end of her stake” Angel countered

He scoffed and threw a sneer in Angel's direction. “Not like you have anything to worry about. She's not gonna stake you and we both know it”

Angel strode over to him and got right up in his face. The great lug towered over him. All things considered; most people did. It used to piss him off being so much shorter than everyone else. Like height made the man. But he found out quickly that it wasn't the case. He used his height to his advantage, ducking into smaller spaces, getting into openings left by lumbering opponents, using his strength, speed and cunning to outmaneuver all of his foes.

“In case you don't remember. I took a sword to the chest and was sent to hell. You remember who was at the end of that sword?! Buffy....” He sighed heavily. “You’re the one she never had the resolve to kill”

“Look. We can fight about this all night and not get anywhere....”

“.... Hey suit yourself!” Spike started

“...But we're not here to talk about Buffy. We need to focus. This girl is extremely dangerous. We don't even know what she's after or what her objective is. We know almost nothing about her other than she was kidnapped and tortured as a child, went into a long-term coma and she's now awake because she was called as a Slayer. Right now, we need to track her down and bring her in. Preferably alive”

He glared at the great ponce but resigned with a sigh. The bloke had a point.  
“Alright....” He drawled. “What you wanna do then”

“You going to listen to me?” He questioned

“Prolly not. But it might be good to have a plan”

Angel sighed heavily.  
“If she's a Slayer, we should be able to sense her easily if we’re close enough, even if she's still green. I say we split up, start at locations where she was last spotted, find witnesses, track her down and bring her in. Unharmed if possible”

~  
The plan was as good as any. Angel reported back to Wolfram and Heart to reconvene with the rest of his group. He had the advantage of using the strengths of all his team members and the advancements in technology. But where he had to wait for everyone to talk, put in their two cents, Spike was free to roam as he wished. As much as he loved the availability of the cars Angel had to offer, the market where she was last seen wasn't much further and he could do with another walk to clear his head after that standoff.

When he reached the market, they were nearly finished cleaning up the scene. There were groups of people crowded in front of the yellow caution tape, trying to get a view of the body. Said body was being loaded into an ambulance at the mo'. From the looks of it, the poor blighter had been slashed multiple times with something serrated. He strode through the scene with purpose, no one had even attempted to stop him. He quickly honed in on a few drops of blood splattered on the asphalt that his sensitive nose immediately picked up as Slayers blood. He drew it right under his nostrils and took a deep breath breathing deep the elixir then unceremoniously sucked them into his mouth.

He may be a good guy now, but it had been too long since he'd last had the pleasure of tasting Slayer blood. Buffy would have never allowed it in any way shape or form. He wouldn't have wanted to if she wasn't going to enjoy it anyways. He knew it was Slayer blood because of the slight feeling of intoxication he got from swallowing it, but it tasted...different. It wasn't as powerful as the previous two. It tasted.... watered down. Medicated. Prolly because the poor chit had been heavily drugged and in a coma for so long. Either way, he had her scent now and he strode away from the scene with purpose, towards the warehouse district. 

He found her quickly enough. She'd left a few drops of blood which helped keep the scent strong and easy to follow. When he entered the first non-descriptive warehouse, he felt the tingling in his blood. He paused for a moment, his eyes darted upwards and he craned his head. Above him. He climbed the flights of stairs with stealthy grace and when he'd gone up as far as he could go, he stepped into the shadows. The street front of the building was lined with paneled windows, and you could see the entire city out of them.

When he found her, she was staring longingly out the foggy windows. Another slip of a thing. Straggly black hair, withered and thin under the moonlight, but it looked like she'd changed togs since she'd busted out of the loony bin. She hadn't seemed to notice him yet. With Buffy, she always seemed to know if he or Angel was around, it made sense that if they could feel her out that it would go both ways. Most likely had something to do with the darkness sensing each other. He couldn't imagine that this girl couldn't feel him standing only a few feet away. A master vampire like him should have her senses screaming at her. But he realized it was likely that even if she did feel him, she had not an idea what it was.

“Likin' the view, are we?” He spoke in a low voice, trying not to startle her too much. The girl snapped around to face him. Oh yeah, definitely off her trolley. She'd painted her face in the blood of her victim. Three crimson streaks against her pale skin, making her look more demonic. He'd seen the look before, trying to look threatening but really, he knew she was probably confused and scared.

“Come on luv. Put down the knife” He held him hands up in surrender. “I know who you are. What you are. Not gonna hurt you”

Her look of shock melted into a look of murderous intent. He watched the mask of a girl slide away as her dark eyes honed in him with a predatory glare. It wasn't all unlike the look Buffy got on her face when she was facing down a foe. And just like Buffy, this girl was just as stubborn and wasn't listening. For her sake he had to try and get the situation under his control.

“Now I know your confused. I once had a crazy quack mess around in my head too. Made me nearly go out of my bleedin' mind, but lemme give you some clarity. You’re a Slayer girl” Not the Slayer mind you but a Slayer all the same” When she didn't react to the title he sighed dramatically. “You know...Slayer? Chosen bird? She alone shall standalone against the vampires, demons and forces of darkness and all that rot?” No reaction. She had no bloody idea. “You gotta a hell of a lot more strength now then you ever did right? Feel strong? Well your meant to use that strength against all sorts of nasties. Like a superhero of sorts”

She seemed to listen to him for a moment but then cocked her head slowly and drew her serrated blade and lunged at him. Apparently, she recognized him as one of said nasties. Bollocks.

He stepped to the right and pivoted so that he was facing her again and brought up his left arm to block an incoming left punch.

Just as I thought. She's nowhere near as strong as Buffy or the others. 'S gotta be the drugs. Just gotta keep her moving, maybe tire her out. She probably doesn't have the stamina to keep up for long. Not like her. A shudder ran through his body and he felt his borrowed blood start to move south at the memories of their many all-nighters and how she was always able to equally match his fervent pace, but he shook it off, focusing back on the fight.

As she drew back with her left arm, she swung out viciously with the weapon in her right, swiping for his gut, he jumped back to avoid it and moved around her in a circle, trying to get behind her. But she was quick he would give her that. She spun to face him and was back in his face in milliseconds. She tried to come down on his left shoulder with plunging stab, but he saw the move coming and kicked her hand away, knocking the blade from her grip. It flew through the air and clattered against some boxes somewhere to his left. With the opening she left him, he darted forward, reached for the girl's center of mass to grab her and pushed her away from him.

Boxes smashed under her weight as she fell into them.

“Look I know you can feel me. I'm not gonna hurt you though....” He ran his fingers through his slick backed hair, damn, already coming out of the gel. “'S kinda a lot to explain right now. Especially when you’re trying to kill me! So be a good luv and listen to me for one bleedin moment. Maybe we can hash this out”

The girl glared daggers at him and rooted around her landing zone. He watched her fish out a large portion of splinted box that oh...would you look at that? Looked exactly like a stake.

“Or you could do that...”

The girl was on her feet in the blink of an eye and jabbing the makeshift stake straight towards his heart. It sort of did him proud knowing that this was probably the Slayer's first real fight against a vampire, having no Watcher and no training, and still knew to go for the heart. Course he shouldn't have expected anything less.

The need to fight and kill and win was starting to take him over. Every time she came at him with a weapon, he relished that split millisecond fear of the unknown. What would happen next? Whose blow would land? Would this be the day he died? He craved this deadly dance. He could feel the bloodlust in the back of his mind. His demon was screaming that she was the enemy, she was prey, she would kill him if he didn't get to her first. But in equal force his new conscience weighed heavily on him. The desire to do good, to do right, by her. Not kill. Protect.

She swung at his chest again and he gracefully dodged left out of the range of the stake. She turned to blindly swing at his head, and he ducked under it. He watched her stumble forward, using her momentum to kick off the ground towards him and took another jab at his chest. He dodged the stake, grabbed her shoulders lightly and pushed her out of his way, dodging back as he went.

He took the opportunity to drop to the ground into a tumble, trying again to get in front of her and be on the offensive this time. As he twirled around to face her, she clocked him on the right side of his face sending him reeling back into a structural pillar. He grunted with pain when his back slammed into the concrete. But he didn't have a moment to rest as she was already on the offense again attempting to drive the stake into him.

He caught the thing between his hands at the last bloody second. He could feel the tip touching the fabric of shirt. Life. Death. The intoxicating flood of adrenaline poured through him. Stake equaled death. Fangs equaled life. His control over the situation dropped and within a second his fangs were out, game face on. The demon couldn't let its human host die and it wanted to punish the one who'd almost taken his it. He watched the shock of seeing the human face in front suddenly shift into a monster and reveled in the trickle of fear he smelled on her.

What happened next caught him a bit off guard. She was talking. He hadn't heard her try and speak to him before. Her voice was rough and gravely, and he tried to focus on her words above the pounding in his ears. But that was it. He couldn't understand her. She wasn't speaking English. He didn't know many languages. Could make a few words out in most of em, enough to get by. This one though. And he chuckled. This one he'd heard before. It was just like her. The first.

“Sorry luv, I don't speak Chinese” This was insane right? The girl didn't look Chinese in the slightest. Guess that was a bit of stereotyping, the bint could have learned it before the coma. And comas sometimes did weird thing to people's noggin’s, right? But how odd was this? Either way, nothing about her demeanor said that she was trying to parley. So, with the imminent threat of the stake out of the way, he threw a punch with his left, following up with a kick to force her away from him.  
She grabbed at her stomach but then pressed forward, stepping into him with a punch with her right which he blocked and forced down with his left, leaving her open to a punch with his right. She staggered backwards and he took the chance to throw out a high kick with his right leg.

What had he told Buffy once?

I follow my blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain. So, I make a lot of mistakes, a lot of wrong bloody calls.

If words had ever spoke truer. He felt the movement around him, smelled her scent envelop him as she was pressed against him and grabbing his shoulders from behind. Felt her muscles clench behind her and her fingers dig into the duster. With great strength she hauled him in a circle, the momentum she grained was enough to pick him straight off the ground and heave him through the air, straight out the bloody windows.

He grunted as he crashed through them, glass shattering everywhere. He tried to protect his face from the raining shards, his feet flailing in a futile gesture to find solid ground. He knew better though, there was no getting out of this one. Hadn't been thrown through a window in a tick. But he did what he needed to, braced for impact. He breathed out, trying to relax his muscles, knowing full well he was about the hit the pavement stories below him. Ehh. He'd been through worse.

He hit the pavement with a groan, feeling something in his chest crack and slipped back to his human face upon impact. Almost immediately he heard the rev of a motor, the sound of squealing tires sliding around a corner and it was headed straight this way.

He picked up himself up. He knew there would be bruises tomorrow and whatever bloody rib he's broken or fractured was going to hurt like a bitch tonight, but it was nothing he wasn't used to. At least it wasn't his nose for once. He used to receive a great deal of injuries from Buffy daily. Most of the time coming from her grabbing him in pleasure rather than fighting. Shaking off the glass he straightened out in time for Angel to come barreling out of the car.

“What happened!” He demanded

He took a breath. Felt like the breath had been knocked out of him. Oh wait...

“Oh. I just thought I'd see what it was like to bounce off the pavement” He paused a beat “Pretty much what I expected”

“You had your chance. Now stay out of it. Tactical is on its way” There was a bit of gloating in the git's eyes. Like he'd expected him to fail and he was all but jeering Na na na na na na At him with those big brown eyes.

“Right. I'm sure she'll hang around until they show up” He fired back.

“You don't get it Spike” He spoke “You failed and she's still out there” As to enunciate his point he threw out a finger and gestured in opposite direction from where he'd came. He then sighed heavily.

“Wesley contacted Giles...they're sending in their top agent for her retrieval”  
He glanced at Angel and noticed the look of defeat that was on his face too. At least he'd been able to track down the girl. Angel must feel the sting more than him and now they were sending someone else to get her, they hadn't been good enough.

“Top agent huh...” Spike questioned drawing his pack from his duster. He quickly lit one up. “...you don't think...?”

Angel cut him off “No. It's not her” He spoke firmly.

Spike let out a shaky breath and sighed in relief. Gods did he want to see her, but he didn't want to face her right now. Didn't want to face her ever, if he didn't have to. Hence the being a coward.  
“She's the best though. Why not send her?”

Angled sighed. “I dunno. Maybe they found someone better”

“Are you completely off your trolley? This is Buffy were talking about. Yay high” He gestured to his shoulders. “Penchant for cute little miniskirts, kind of a bitch” He dropped his hands and scoffed when Angel rolled his eyes. “She's the soddin best there is”

The older vampire dramatically shrugged “I dunno what to tell you Spike. Maybe there is someone stronger than Buffy. What does it matter anyways? She doesn't exactly want to be around either of us anyways”

Spike threw him a questioning look. “Hang on a tick.... does she know about me...?”

“Absolutely not!” He growled back

His eyes furrowed in suspicion. “Just the way you said it.... sounded like she knew”

Angel shook his head in response. “She doesn't know anything. I just mean that Buffy wouldn't come here unless she absolutely had to, if the world was ending or something. Even then, why would she want to see us? That part of her life is over-with. We both know it”

Spike frowned. “Yeah....” He drawled, taking a long drag of the cigarette. “Can't argue with that”

He watched the smirk creep across Angel's face “Did you just....”

“Not a bloody chance. I think its physically impossible for me to agree with you”

Angel paused to survey the scene, sniffing the air around him. “Scents gone. We better get back. See who this agent is. What their plan is”

“Alright...but I'm drivin”

~

After she'd finished getting dressed in a hurry, barely taking any time after he'd come down from his orgasm to be up and moving, she'd known he knew something was up. He was no stranger to her leaving quickly and at strange hours. He knew her job as a Slayer demanded her attention and it came first no matter what time of day. But when she looked at him, she did not miss the way his eyes watched over her with a sadness that had been there since their meal earlier that evening. She'd never told him about Spike. So, she didn't think it was likely he knew it was over another man. Hell, she was trying to get Spike out of her mind. Not to mention she didn't want to be that girl who went on about her ex to her current boyfriend. She questioned herself. Is that what Ciro had been? A boyfriend? She supposed so. They were 'together' for a few months now. The term boyfriend was sweet, unassuming, innocent. And that's all that their relationship was.... well...had been.

Ciro wasn't stupid. He knew something was different about the way she was rapidly getting dressed. Maybe it was because she was struggling to hold back tears. Tears that were ready to spill because no matter how hard she tried she couldn't forget. She couldn't get past the feeling that came when she thought of him. So, when she was done picking the literal pieces off the floor she turned to him standing in the frame of his bedroom door, bracing herself against solid wall because she didn't think she could hold herself up.

“Ciro” She whispered her eyes glued to the floor. “I'm sorry. I know this is sudden and I know you don't deserve this...but I can't do this anymore” She was tired of doing this. Tired of severing an intimate connection between someone who just wanted to love her. But it was so impossible to love her, and she knew it. The images of all those before her flashes in her mind. Angel, the fight with Riley....William....

He didn't look shocked. It was like he was expecting it and that made it all the worse. She could see the sadness in his eyes and in the way, he had curled himself up, all long limbed, still naked from the waist up. He made no effort to get up to close the distance between them, made no attempt to touch her physically and try and bring her back to him. She watched as he sighed and sat in defeat.

“Buffy...” He started “Since I have known you, you have never really smiled. You always look so sad. I thought maybe it had something to do with leaving California and all your friends splitting apart. That would certainly make me sad” He paused, and she raised her eyes to meet his. His eyes were steady, staring back at her with a look that should have broken her heart “But I think it is something much more than that. There is something so heavy in your heart that you cannot be anything but sad and I do not think it is something I will be able to fix”

He stood up; blankets wrapped around his waist. Nothing like him. Here she was, ending another relationship and she was still making comparisons. Ciro was modest. He covered himself like gentlemen as he made his way over to her. She was surprised that he didn't put on a shirt. Spike walked around unabashed and like he owned the place. He didn't care if it made everyone else uncomfortable. He was comfortable is own skin and he never let anyone make him feel bad about it. Another thing she missed so much about him.  
“I know too that this will not work. I wanted it to Buffy. Ever since I have met you, I have been drawn to you. You are sweet and funny and so very beautiful. But until you move on from whatever tragedy you cling to, you will always be sad. There is so much more to living than this, but I cannot help you find it” He finished

Living. Now that was an interesting word. Adjective. Alive. Adjective. Of a person, animal or plant living, not dead. By definition she was alive and living. She'd lost the feeling after coming back from beyond the grave. There was nothing that compared to a place so warm, so perfect, so full of life and love. She hadn't wanted to be back in the real world with ungrateful friends, clinging men and adult responsibilities. Only he had made her feel anything akin to feeling alive. At the time it was just a temporary escape, moments in time where everything else faded around her and she could focus on being warm, being loved, being full of life...well. Full of something anyways. For the entire time they were together she was disgusted with herself, lowering her standards to a creature she thought was so beneath her, forgetting that he was more than just that.

In those days she would never admit how he made her feel. She didn't want him to know the relief she felt in being able to talk to him about what she'd lost when there was no one else. Or that she craved the moments he went out of his way to try and make her feel better, even though she never returned the favor. She didn't want to give him credit for the heights he took her to only a daily basis. She didn't want to praise him for bringing her to orgasm, each more intense than the last, at least half a dozen times in one night and sometimes within an hour. That's merely what he was supposed to do. He was basically her walking vibrator. A toy to be used to get herself off as many times as she wanted without having to reciprocate back, talk to and certainly not kiss. And yeah, the toy made noise. Constant rumblings of appreciation, worship, and some of the downright most wicked things she'd ever heard in the common tongue, but he was still just a machine, an emotionless thing.

But gods in those hours and minutes spent with him she felt alive. Not dead. Her body practically sung for him. She'd never known how intense just feeling could be. Not until he spent hours buried between her thighs. His lithe fingers curling within her, tongue tenderly stroking at her lips, occasionally traveling north to flick her clit with the tip, making her gasp and want for more but never giving her what she wanted until she was crying out to do his damn job. To which he always replied.

Not a job luv. Jobs mean work. And this is anything but...this is heaven. Could spend hours down here. Wanna take my time, make you come over and over again all over my tongue. Make your clit so sensitive that you'll beg me to stop because the pleasure is too intense.

He was always pressed so tightly against her pussy that if he'd been a normal man, he'd die from not being able to breathe. But that's just it wasn't it? He wasn't normal or human. She'd scorned him for being something less than human, a monster without a soul. The soul was what defined him. So, after he was done, after she's been satisfied, she would turn and run. Just like she was doing now. Always running.

She frowned at him and found that the only thing she could do was nod in return. She didn't have any more words for him. She took her things and for the last time, left his apartment and fled into the Roman night. It was one of those warm, humid nights that reminded her of California and it only added to the heartbreak. She was homesick, she was lost, and she was lonely. Dawn would be asleep by now and had classes tomorrow morning so she couldn't wake her when she got home. Even if Xander and Willow were still talking to her, she couldn't do the math right now to determine if she was waking someone up in the middle of the night.  
This time of night usually belonged to them. Especially after he'd returned with his soul. After he'd started living in her house of all places. She'd go down to him while he was chained up or freely roaming the basement and just...talk. But now? The nights brought even more loneliness. No family, no friends, no vampire. She didn't even patrol that much anymore. Not since living in Rome.

She staggered into her apartment not long after, weary from the events from this brutally emotional night and made her way to the kitchen for something warm and fuzzy to drink to help her sleep. She was pulling some milk from the fridge when her phone started going off. The damn thing was in her clutch purse and she hurried to stifle its obnoxious chirping tones so that she didn't wake up her sister, who, newsflash, may be even grumpier than her when woken up.  
She looked at the caller ID on the front and rapidly clicked it open.

“Giles....” She breathed into the phone. She hadn't heard from him in months. Not since Dawn and her had gotten settled here. She knew it was most likely since he was extremely busy building all the new bases across the world while simultaneously recruiting a whole new generation of watchers and still training Slayers when he had the time. But she had the gut feeling that it was for the same reason that she hadn't talked to him. Their relationship was unsteady ever since he had tried to have Spike killed, probably even before that. She still found herself unable to fully trust him after what he tried to do to Spike.

“Buffy” He responded cordially. “I apologize for calling so late. A matter of utmost emergency has come up and I felt that I needed to inform you of it” He paused “Also I knew you'd be up”

She chuckled. “You guessed right. Me and sleep...?” She started

“Not a mixy thing. Right. Always the same with you” And she heard him chuckle back. This was the Giles she missed. The father figure that she had craved for so long, not that backstabbing man who hadn't trusted her judgment.

“So what’s up?' She asked. Not wanting to dwell. And this was obviously important.

“A new Slayer was called six months ago”

“Uhh...earth to Giles. A lot of new Slayers were called six months ago. Where have you been?”

“Would you let me finish you stubborn girl!?”

“Sorry” She squeaked.

“Right....as I was saying. A new Slayer by the name of Dana was called. Her situation was...quite different. You see. She'd been hospitalized in a psychiatric ward for over fifteen years prior to her Calling. The poor girl had been forced to witness the death of her entire family, abducted, raped and tortured to the point where she went catatonic. She's been suppressed using drugs such as Thorazine all this time. Her Calling seems to have broken that but now she has escaped the hospital and has killed at least two people. We believe she is seeking revenge on the man who did this to her. A man named Walter Kindle”

She was...shocked to say the least. What a cruel hand the girl had been dealt. And now she was a Slayer and probably had no idea what she was going through, at least she had been warned.  
“This Walter guy...” She started

“Dead. Shot by the police in the attempted robbery of a liquor store no less”

“So Dana is..”

“Wandering about the city, killing people trying to find him”

Although the girl had killed humans, she was still a Slayer. They could deal with that, there were plenty of people in her ragtag band of misfits that had killed and had been let back into the good graces of the group. She was a Slayer with a troubled past. There were plenty of those too. She understood that it might not be possible to save her, but she was still blood and she had to try.

“Giles. We need to get her back here. I know she's killed people but...”

“I understand Buffy. In fact, I've already sent someone out to retrieve her. We should have her back in less than a weeks’ time. I hate to ask this of you, but when she gets back here in England, would mind terribly...”

“I'll be there” She finished, not letting him finish his sentence. She could hear the relief in his sigh over the phone.

“Good. I have some more information that I would like to go over with you, but for now, I think it best the both of us get some sleep”

“Agreed” She paused “One last question though. Who'd you send?”  
~

The two master vampires exited the elevator and strode out into the lobby and down the hallway with purpose. A conference had been called with Angel's usual posse and included this so-called expert that Rupert sent to retrieve the psycho slayer.

They strode into the room, Angel leading and walking briskly to his seat at the head of the table.

“Angel. We were just about to go over the information” Wesley started, seeing his boss walk in.

As Spike strolled in after him, he was brought to a sudden halt as a chair swiveled around quickly and revealed none other than.... Andrew? This little twerp? This ponce was Rupert Giles top agent? What the bloody hell happened in six months?

The kid's eyes widened, and he stood from the chair looking like he'd seen.... well.... a ghost.

“...Spike?” He breathed. He practically dropped his pipe on the table next to him and Spike felt the boy's heartbeat speed up. Who was he kidding, he actually kind of missed the little tosser.

“Oh, for the love of...” He started. He realized there was a large group of people surrounding him, watching like a hawk the scene that was unfolding before them. He had a reputation to maintain, especially in front of Peaches. There were few people that he was willing to let his guard come down for and most of the room didn't fit into the category.

“It’s you! It's really you!” Andrew nearly flew at him from his chair and grabbed him by the shoulders. Feeling up the muscle and solidity of the body in front of him. The look in his eyes flashed relief, joy and longing. He felt the small weak hands press against his chest, grasping him, making sure that he was actually standing there in the flesh and then threw his arms around his neck.

He could feel the eyes of the room on him, wondering what the hell was going on right now. Why was William the Bloody letting some tweed wearing kid hug him like this.

The boy started prattling on. “My therapist thought I was holding onto false hope, but I knew you'd come back” He felt his grip around his neck and the one the one trying to grip around his waist grow tighter. His nose pressed into the junction of his neck and he didn't fail to notice him take a long shuddering breath when he was there or the salt in the air from gathering tears.

He knew the kid was attracted to him; he hadn't exactly tried to hide it before. And now as he was pressed against him, reveling in the fact that he was once again flesh rather than ash he could practically hear his blood rushing through his veins, swarming south. He was flattered really that he so obviously wanted him. Gender never really mattered to him. He preferred women of course but would give and take from men just the same. It stroked his ego, which was a nice feeling after being away from Buffy for so long.

“Your like...Gandalf the White, resurrected from the pit of the Balrog” Andrew drew back, grabbing his face between his hands and stared deeply into his eyes. He felt a shiver go through the boy. It was so good to feel so wanted. But for the sake of his pride he feigned a look boredom and rolled his eyes.

“More beautiful than ever” The boy breathed. Dammit. And once again he was pulled into a tight hug.

“He's my Frodo” Silly references aside, he couldn't help but feel touched by his words. To know there was someone who had truly missed him was something of a surprise to him, but he found that it was something he craved. He'd been chasing affection for so long. From Angelus, from Dru and then from Buffy. All of which, gave him little bits and pieces, scraps not fit for a dog, but he'd learned to survive on them.

Sod the tough guy act. Since when did he care what people thought of him anyways? So for the first time in a long time he drew himself into the embrace of a warm body, wrapping one arm around the boy's waist and drawing him close for a moment in a sort of manly hug.  
“Good to see you again too” He muttered almost silently under his breath before releasing him. Andrew looked like he would have died happily on the spot, clearly not expecting the return of affection

Angel just smirked  
“You two know each other?” And Spike launched a deadly glare at him. Before he could answer though, he heard Andrews voice.

“Uh yeah” He sniffled, cleared his throat and straightened his jacket, trying to protect Spike's image. “We uh. We saved the world together...I mean Buffy helped but it was mostly us”

“So, what happened? Last I heard, you went all pillar of fire in the Hellmouth”

Spike opened his mouth to answer but was immediate cut off by Angel who was looking anything but nostalgic.

“Can we save memory lane until after we contain this psychotic super-powered killing machine?”

“Right” Andrew answered, backing away from Spike, clearing his throat and straightening out the lapels of his jacket.  
“I'll take it from here. Best they hear this from the expert” He moved to grab his dropped pipe from the table

Andrew proceeded to explain the mythology of Slayers. How they'd come to be and why they possessed the powers that they did. By the end of his lecture, the entire group seem bored out of their minds and barely paying the guy any attention. Spike already knew everything he was saying anyways. He vaguely paid attention when Andrew gave the recap as to what happened six months ago what the First Evil, the end of the world, the all-powerful axe and her 'lesbian witch and their beau-coup de magie.

“An army of Slayers” Wesley started, seemingly amazed. “But with the watcher's council destroyed, how will all these new slayers receive their necessary training?” He asked clearly interested in the logistics of the new arrangement having been a former Watcher.

“Mr Giles and key few Sunnydale alum have been out tracking the recently chosen...” While he started explaining, he pulled a brown bagged lunch from seemingly nowhere, rifling though it until he found a baggie of fake cheese fish crackers. Spike scoffed at the Union Jack on the front. “...guiding them and training them, giving them the full X-men, minus the crappy third act. But this Dana girl, she's a complete anomaly that no one could have foreseen. She's been tortured, traumatized and driven insane by Yoda knows who. There was no way we could have predicted her calling”

He'd had enough of this bollocks. In the time they'd taken to have this little meeting, he could have been out there tracking her down again. She couldn't have gone far from where he'd fought her.

“Right. You corporate types go ahead with your talky-talk. Anybody needs me, I'll be out doin' his job” He growled, pointing a finger at Angel who returned the glare.

He'd barely made it out of the room when he felt the tug in his blood that indicated his family, not to mention the thundering footsteps. He scowled and proceeded to walk away faster.

“Spike. You think this is a joke?” He heard calling from behind him

“Only if you’re the punch line”

“Look were the last two people that should be confronting her. She's a Slayer. She has every reason to hate us, and she's unstable. In her mind, it doesn't matter if were souled or not. She can't tell that by just looking at us.... not that looking at you would give any indication at all”  
He ignored him. This was just wasting time.

“She exists for one reason. To destroy creatures like us” He just kept going and going. As if he was going to scare him out of this.

“Sod off Peaches. I'll track her down faster than your tactical team can even come close. So be a good little suit and go back to your chair. I'm sure there's tons more mythology that Andrew has got for you” He spat reaching the elevator slamming his hand against the button, as if it would make it come faster.

Angel stopped in front of him and crossed his arms.  
“What's got you so worked up” He smirked.

Spike feigned indifference  
“Nothing that I'm talkin' to you about. Just need to blow off some steam. Takin' down a Slayer gone daft in the melon should do the trick. 'N don't worry. I'll bring her back alive”

His face softened.  
“Is this about that kid?” He asked

He paused a beat, an expression of pain flashing across his face, leaving again within seconds. Apparently, that was enough.

“Mind your business”  
His voice was rough and sullen. It wasn't necessarily about Andrew. He'd missed the little ponce, but this was more than just him. It was the whole incident at the Hellmouth. Seeing Andrew again, someone who was with him during those events was bringing back a whole slew of memories. It was about being there and saving the world. He was right back down in those caves, the sound of battle all around him. He was ripping apart the ancient members of his race and tearing their heads right off their old wrinkly shoulders. The grunts, sweat, blood and tears of dozens of girls were all around him and he'd be lying if he didn't find it distracting. Always though he kept his senses honed on the familiar indicators of Buffy. 

And then he could still feel her tiny warm hand in his even though he was burning from the inside out. Could hear her staccato pulse, taste the tears on her cheeks, smell her precious blood and the faint scent of the arousal that came from a good fight. Once a Slayer. The pain in his body was so intense, so far beyond anything he'd experienced, but all he could focus on was the woman he loved who was right here with him in his final moments.

“I love you” She'd told him. Whispered it with those soft tear-filled eyes, green and powerful, baring into his. There were no traces of hate or disgust. No threats of sneering and laughing in his face. After all the years he spent striving for the love, if not just the affection of this maddening girl and it had to be now. Fate was a cruel mistress. I love you too. His head and heart screamed the words, but he couldn't force them out. Not now. If he said the words back now, they'd only cause her pain. The place was falling apart around them and she needed to get out or he'd never forgive himself. God it hurt so much. The physical pain oh yes. He was burning. Could already feel his long dead organs catching fire and there was nothing in the world to describe what it felt like. And he was in agony for having to turn her away and for not being able to say it back. But if he said it now, he'd be leaving her as more than just a dying friend and after all the men who'd done it to her, he couldn't be the one to hurt her anymore.  
“No, you don't. But thanks for saying it” His final words to her. He'd come off like such a prick. He saw the hurt across her face and immediately wanted to take it back. But then the place was shaking more, and he could feel more than just his insides start to catch. “Now go!” He couldn't let her see him like this. Couldn't let her watch him dust.

The pain was incredible and once he felt that Buffy had receded from the area, that she was out of the impending collapse safe and sound it hit him all at once. It wasn't just his insides on fire it was everything. He could feel the soul like a miniature sun deadly and swelling within him. Everything hurt. He felt his bones get hot, char and burn and crumble within him. His blood was boiling him alive from the inside. Once the flames reached his nerves, there was a moment where he was looking out into the caves and nothing hurt. Everything was clear. No more nerves, no more pain. He was never afraid of dying, he had flirted with death for all of his life and relished in it. But this kind of death was different. There was no adrenaline rush or thrill of the kill and in those last moments. He wished he could have least been under the real rays of sunlight, see the world in the light one more time. In those last few seconds of his unlife, he was terrified of dying alone. His last thought had been of Buffy before there was nothing.  
The elevator came then, after what felt like an eternity. He hastily stepped into it and slammed his first against the close door button.  
“Spike...” Angel started

He flipped him the two-finger salute before the elevator doors closed in front of him.

~  
Angel returned to the conference feeling sullen. Something had happened there. That was no ordinary brooding or Spike depression. There was no swagger and bravado. No fight within him. He had looked terrified and it gave him a funny feeling.

But he had a team to lead, a Slayer to find and Spike was a big boy. Spike would do it his way, he'd do it his own. With his friends. When he walked in, they noticed the lack of Spike but didn't comment.

“Look” He said pointing to a map of the area with red circles around her confirmed locations “We know she's been sighted here. Tactical is doing a non-engagement sweep but they've got over 60 blocks to cover”

“That'll take days if we’re lucky” Fred responded dejectedly.

“Then we have to narrow it down. Witnesses said she was looking for something. We need to find out what it is”

“Maybe it has something to do with her being abducted. That guy? Maybe she's out looking for revenge. I know a guy who might be able to help” Lorne offered

“Alright fine, set it up and it better be fast. In the meantime, let’s get Andrew on this. See if he knows anything else that might be able to help us”

“Umm...I don't think he's here” Fred replied

“What?” He looked around to the rest of the table “Where'd he go?”

~  
He paced down the concrete of the docks in a slow glide. Who did the little ponce think he was kidding? Not only could he hear the slap of expensive business type loafers on the ground, and hear the pitter patter of the tiny beating heart going a mile a minute, but could also smell the fake cheese coming from the crackers he'd be stuffing his face with from a mile away. Ehh, he'd enjoyed the quiet long enough he guessed. He didn't think the girl was in the immediate area anyways so it’s not like they'd be losing the element of surprise.

“We can play cat and mouse all night” He spoke suddenly reaching in between a couple of shipping contains and grabbed Andrew by the lapels of his jacket.

“Bravo. I see your senses seem to be as well-honed as your Viggo Mortensen pectorals” There he went with more of the flattery. Time to play with the poor ponce then.

“Feels like you've finally started fillin out too mate. All that Slayer training doin' that pretty body of yours good” And turned to face the boy, tongue curling behind his teeth.  
A sharp intake of breath came from the boy, he flushed and couldn't hold eye contact, quickly looking at the suddenly interesting ground. Gotcha He thought cockily, accompanied by a dark chuckle. But enough with the play.

“What're you doing out here Andrew” He asked, walking away.

He was still obviously reeling but he could once again here the sound of his feet coming towards him.  
“This is where the action is bro! On the streets. Can you dig it?”

“Go back to Wolfram and Hart. Don't have time for games”

“That's good. Cause Andy aint playin” He opened his coat to reveal several guns in the lining. “You’re not the only one who's changed. Mr. Giles has been training me. I'm faster, stronger and 82% more manly then the last time we met” He spoke confidently, as if to back up what Spike had told him just a few moments ago.

“Nice pieces” Spike commented gesturing to both.

“But you’re a vampire. You don't need guns”

He shrugged “What can I say. I'm a rebel. Always liked weapons. Any kinda weapon. Guns are all fine 'n' dandy. But mainly I like hittin people. Bashin' em upside the head with somethin”

Andrew balked. Oh yeah. The kid was under the impression that having the soul made him more human. Which to an extent it did. Dulled some of the want for violence, but never the need. The soul hadn't taken away the demon, only soothed him a bit, but he was still there, craving the kill. It wasn't like he was ever trying to hide who he was. Hadn't meant to scare the kid though. Best to get back to normal.  
“I like weapons. They make me feel all manly” He said, quoting himself from a time that had long since passed. Andrew seemed to calm down and even giggled a bit.

“Spike...you don't need them to be manly” His voice a whisper, taking in the vampire in front of him. As much as he'd been having fun messing around with the little ponce, they needed to get back to work.

“Right. Well I'd say we have our next lead” Spike spoke reaching into his duster and pulling out his cigs, placing one between his lips.  
“What makes you say that?” Andrew questioned suddenly looking around.

Spike lit the cigarette, drawing in a deep breath and pointed to the figure slumped in front of him. Even in the dark he could see the man's throat had been slit.

A whimper bubbled up from Andrew's throat and he turned to put his face in Spike's side who just rolled his eyes, shrugged the boy off and swaggered towards the body.  
He felt the boy follow him seconds later, his throat clearing.

“H..How did you know that was there. I couldn't even see it”

“Blood. Plus...Vampire” He drawled out “Can see in the bloody dark remember”

“R...Right. S..S..Soo how long has he been dead? That's a blade wound right? Was it her? Are we far behind?”

He breathed out a heavy cloud of smoke. “Not long. Yes, a serrated blade to be more precise, look at the tearing of the flesh.” Andrew cringed but Spike continued “Yes it was her. No, we're not far behind”

“Can you smell her yet?”

“....No...” He mumbled

“Is she...”

“Enough with the bloody questions” He barked. He had said something about missing the ponce? More like missing rippin out his vocal chords.

“We all keep in touch....” Andrew started suddenly. Switching to a completely different topic which had Spike desperately trying to keep up with the kid's thought process going a million directions at once. When he didn't reply, the boy kept going, as if it was encouragement.

“Well, mostly I talk to Rupert. But we all check in. Xander is in Africa. He sent me a mbuna fish. I'll have to show you a picture. I named him after Jar-Jar, cause he looks kinda like a fish. He does this thing with his little fishy lips and....” Spike flashed him a glare of annoyance. “Right...well Willow and Kennedy are in Brazil. They're based in San Paulo, but, um, every time I talk to them they’re in Rio....probably partying it up being lesbians...” He trailed off. “I don't think they get any work done while they're there”

“Not bloody likely” Spike chuckled. Sounded like Scooby gang was all hunky dory. He wondered what she was up to? He could probably find out right now even though it broke every damn code he'd kept for the past six months. He was not a patient man, the only thing holding him back from hopping the next flight out to wherever the fuck she was.... was...wherever the fuck she was. His mouth opened, filled with the question when suddenly he smelled it.  
He sniffed the air around him. There it was again. Slayer Blood. He noted the weak medicinal aroma to it and knew it was hers.

Beside him Andrew drew in a deep breath, mimicking him. Hell. It was the sincerest form of flattery right.  
“What's it smell like? Blood I mean” Andrew asked. Taking more breaths in, like he would suddenly understand

“Uhh...Metallic sorta.... You ever tasted a penny?”

“No....wait....no...”

“Smells kinda like that. There's more to it 'course. Everyone's blood is different, just like fingerprints. Depends on the levels of minerals, amount of iron and the like. Plus, everyone's got that one special thing that makes em taste special”

It was weird talking to someone. That someone being human of all things. About something so necessary to his life. Something that most humans, when talked about the way their blood tasted, would freeze up and condemn him for the monster he was. Really it was no different than identifying a fine wine what with all the terminology like.... oakiness. Why the bloody hell would you want wine that tasted like kerosene or tar anyways?He was getting way off subject.

“What do you mean by that?” Andrew asked. He was probably subjecting himself to some kind of.... interview here. One to be written down in the books on 'Vampyrs' as Andrew liked to call them. But sod all at this point.

“It’s like this. Blood tastes metallic yeah? Everyone's is. But everyone's also got this one unique flavor. 'S probably what makes different vamps attracted to different pr..... I mean...have different preferences. Take the Slayer I took out in the boxer rebellion” He started

“Xin Rong you mean?” He questioned

“Guess that was her yeah. Never knew her name” He didn't like having to put a name to the face. Made the guilt come back full force. Almost made him feel sick. “As I was saying. So everyone's blood has got this special quality. The Chinese Slayer, she tastes like.... some exotic spice I don't know the name of. Kinda sweet and spicy”

“Chinese Five Spice?” Andrew questioned and Spike shrugged.

“What about the other Slayer?” Andrew asked clearly interested now.

“Rich. Like buttery soul food”

Andrew nodded and fell silent. They walked side by side. He couldn't even begin to try and count the number of people he'd fed from and killed over the years. The things he'd done as he drained em dry. The cries and screams that came from them. It was who he was in the past, but there was still part of him, not just the demon, but his current self that longed for the old days. Everything was simple back then. Kill. Feed. Fuck. Fight. All he needed. And now?  
“What about Buffy...?” The question fell from the Andrew's lips and he stopped dead in his tracks. A growl rose in his throat. He felt the fear rise from the boy.

“Not playin that game” He spat

“So you never....”  
“No” He immediately barked out.

“But you wanted to...?”

“This conversation is over”

“Spike...I'm not gonna judge you...” He whined

“And I'm not talking about this anymore”

He needed to put this out of his head. It'd been too long since he'd fed last. He honestly hadn't cared much lately, hadn't wanted to even think about it. He remembered when his mother was sick, long ago. It took so much effort to get her to eat anything, not because she wasn't capable, but because she'd said food had lost its appeal. That's how he felt now. Just...didn't want to eat. And now? Here they were talking about the finer qualities of blood and felt his stomach rumble. Cause they weren't just talking about any blood, but Slayer blood. Though arguably, that had been his fault. But then the ponce had to go and bring up Buffy.

That was one thing he'd never gotten to do with her. She'd never let him. Probably would have staked him on the spot for even suggesting it. He'd be lying if he said he didn't think about it every time they were together. Every time he was buried between her legs, he could hear her blood of her femoral artery pounding in his head, driving him mad. But he could never betray her trust like that. She'd already told him she'd never trust him anyways. So, he listened and pretended that one day he could have her burst across his tongue. He bet she tasted like sunshine.

And now that they were on the subject, he felt his resolve crumble. Six months he'd gone without knowing where in the world she was. But now he had to know. Where she was, what she was doing. Was she okay...?

Now or never mate. Stop being a bloody coward

“So... heard from Buffy lately?”

He watched the kid pick up a dirty penny off the street and smirked. He wouldn't...

“Yeah of course. She's uh...she's in Rome. Her and Dawn. Dawn goes to school there. Italian school. In her last year of high school”

“Rome huh....” She was in Italy. There was a sense of relief, knowing that she was alive and well somewhere, not just some dot on a blank map. “Never pegged her for the expatriate show”

“Yeah...after the Hellmouth we all went back to London, since that's where Giles was from and Sunnydale was well....” He glanced over to him with a sheepish grin. “Anyways, she was rounding up Slayers over in Europe and I guess she decided she liked it there. I guess that she...” He paused and when he thought Spike wasn't looking stuck the penny between his lips sucking on it lightly before making a disgusted face and spitting it back out. “I guess she needed a break from California”

He stuck out his tongue repeatedly as if trying to get the taste off it. “I don't think I'd make a good vampire” He groaned and shoved his hands in his tweed pockets.  
“It changes once you get turned” He mumbled idly.

“Wait...” Andrew said suddenly and stopped moving. Spike sighed and stopped to turn and face him. He couldn't read the look on his face.

“She...doesn't know your alive...does she?” He gasped

“I don't think so. I mean...I don't know. Does she?”  
“No. N..no. I mean...I would have heard about it first. We would have had a conference call!”

He sighed. He was afraid of this.

“Uh...well..do you....do you want me...want me to tell her? I'm good...with those...delicate conversations”

“No. Don't tell her” I'll take care of it”

Andrew cocked his head “I don't get it. Why didn't you tell her?”

Spike rolled his eyes and pretending to hold a mobile phone in his hands “Hello Buffy, it’s me, Spike. I didn't burn up like you thought. How are things?” He then put down his fake phone and shot a glare at him.

“She would have been happy to hear from you...She...”

“Don't” He grunted. “Don't wanna hear it”

“But...”

“Andrew. Sod off” And he was off again. Leaving the boy behind him.

Andrew stood there, stunned. He wasn't entirely sure of what had happened in those last moments in Hellmouth. He was upstairs, watching his friends get beat to hell and oh yeah, Anya getting cleaved in nearly two. But he had known from hanging around Buffy's house those last couple weeks that there was definitely something between the Slayer and Spike. Something that wasn't just end of the world ally related stuff. He think it came from much further back. He suspected it ran much deeper, otherwise Spike would been happy to tell her he was back.

You don't know how unhappy she's been. Every time I talked to her, the few times I did, it sounded like she was going to cry. Like her heart was breaking. Like she had nothing left. I wonder now...is that because of you?  
Spike practically stomped down the rest of the alleyway. It was lucky he wasn't going for a surprise attack because he was bloody well sure everyone could hear him coming from a mile away. His head was all sorts of mixed up. This was why he never talked to anyone, especially those brats. Putting things in his head that he was tired of thinking, bringing up memories and emotions that he was trying to bury.

He had to find this girl, a good brawl would fix everything and then he could go back to his shitty flat, get pissed and listen to his Pistol's vinyl. Maybe grab a bite to eat.

“Spike!” Andrew's voice called out

“Bloody go home Andrew. Go back to Angel and his soddin crew and prattle off more useless information to them but leave me the hell alone” He huffed

“Nu uh. There's something you gotta tell me!” He ran and finally caught up. He was winded and doubled over when he finally made it.  
So much for the training Spoke thought with an amused grin.

“I don't have to tell you anything. You got plenty of information out of me already”

“But...it’s important! Buffy...” He started

Spike stopped walking and drew and inhaled deeply and Andrew, seeming to know there was something different in his change of attitude finally shut up about whatever he was going on about. He was suddenly all business.

“What is it?” He questioned

“Blood” Spike replied sniffing again. “Smells different. Stronger” He turned to try and pinpoint it.

“Like nickels?” He asked

Found it. He darted around a corner; he could hear Andrew clambering after him. He reached the end of an alleyway.

“Dead end?” Andrew spoke from behind him

“No....” He mumbled and stalked over to some metal panel covered in blood. “It her blood” This wasn't right, and he knew it. The sense of a plan gone awry was creeping around him, his brain trying to think a mile a minute. Blood smeared on metal. Not a big enough gap to get through. Dead end. Trap.

He turned around quickly and heard the girl before he could see her. She dove at them from above and immediately punched Andrew across the front of his head. He heard the ponce hit the pavement and knew he was out. Right. Round Two. Fight.

He swung with his left to backhand her and when she dodged under him to avoid the blow, he took a step back, widened his stance to gain better foot and momentum and followed up with a punch with his right. She caught it but he overpowered her, sending her back into the drums that lined the alley wall. He tried to keep the momentum going, stay on the offensive this time around. He spun around to plant a kick at her face but she dodged and it collided with the metal paneling. She took the opportunity to elbow him in the face. She tried to throw another punch which he blocked with crossed wrists but continued her move by kicking in the face with her right foot. It knocked him off his balance and sent him crashing against some nearby drums and she lunged forward to grab him, he nimbly ducked under her arms, grabbing her from behind instead.

See? Sometimes it was good to be shorter, more compact. He took the opportunity to slam her into the very thing he'd just collided with once...and then tried again but the little minx elbowed him in the gut. She tried to pull away, but her reaction time was too slow and he was able to get a hold of her arm, spin her and send her flying back into the wall. She quickly recovered and moved to grab him, catching him by the forearm and using that Slayer strength flipped him in a full circle so the he hit the pavement with his back first but rolled over to his stomach.

He heard the whiz of something go above his head, saw her dodge gracefully out of the way and then looked up to see a fuzzy dart sticking out of the metal wall in front of him. He watched her glare at the boy behind him, run towards him and heard the crack of something hitting his face. Then her footsteps receded away. Oh no. Not again. Wasn't gonna let her get away again. He ran hard after her. Unneeded breath filling his dead lungs as he chased her down a narrow alley, slinking through a narrow passage until he came upon a metal door. Her scent was covered in it.

He opened it and the rush of smell hit him. Dank basement. Slayer blood. Dust. Adrenaline. Molasses? Was that whiskey? She had to be down here. He crept down the basement stairs quietly. Couldn't see into the room yet. But he could hear her heart, pounding away frantically.

He got to the bottom and there she was.

“All right pet. No getting away. Got your scent locked in now. Can track you for miles”

And finally,...she spoke.  
“No escaping”

“That’s right...no escaping” He walked towards her cautiously. “Now, all the same. Don't wanna have to hurt you. Got some people lookin for you. Wanna help”

“Doesn't hurt if you hold still” She replied holding onto herself.

“Right...”

“Heart...and head. Have to get home. Doesn't hurt if you hold still”

He chuckled. Oh yeah. Daft in the melon alright. Sputtering nonsense. Things that had no context. Just like Dru.  
“You’re a real sack of hammers aren't you. Hey don't worry. I used to date a girl who wasn't all there”

She didn't seem to care about his comment. She fiddled with her fingers as she talked. Fidgeting. Nervous.  
“Heart..and head” She repeated “Stab the heart, cut off the head. Only way to be sure”

“That's slayer talk isn't it”

“Keep cutting until you see dust” She followed

“Right. Lemme explain. You got visions, right? Vampire slayer memories kicking in from all the past Slayers”

Dana cowered before him slipping into another personality.  
“Please don't. I have to get home to my son. To my Robin”

“Robin. Hey your talking about Nikki...the Slayer I offed back in New York...on second thought you don't wanna think about that pet” Oh bad move. Provoke the bird why don't you.

She suddenly glared at him with a murderous look in her eye  
“William the Bloody”

“No...no...no. That's not gonna lead anywhere good. You wanna focus on what’s real”  
“Head and heart. Don't be scared”

“Now were gonna...” But before he could finish his sentence he was on the ground. Bitch swept him off his feet. And before he could get up to fight back there was a piercing pain in the side of his neck.

He screamed out in pain. Whatever it was, it dug deep. Needle...felt like a needle. What the bloody hell? He fought her off him, but he could feel it taking effected already. Christ she'd drugged him, His muscles weren't working. Getting weaker. He pushed her over and clawed his way off the ground.

“You little minx” He pulled himself up, but his head swarmed as he did. The muscles in his legs were starting to fail now and he couldn't hold himself up. They buckled under his weight and he started to fall, catching himself on some stacked boxed. He took in a shaky unnecessary breath.  
“What did you do to me?”

Her response was immediate. Malicious. “Yellows make you weak”

He turned to find her, his vision started to blur, to fade. Everything was getting fuzzy. His senses were lost. Could barely see. Losing his smell. He could just barely hear the drum of her heartbeat.

“Not weak anymore” He heard from in front of him and then pain exploded in his gut again. He tried to fight back. Tried to swing out for her but his balance was off, and his fist slid through empty air. He felt the back of her hand against crack against his face and he fell backwards, hitting the ground hard.

“Alright. Now you've made me mad” He growled and tried to roll over to get up. But she was rolling him too. Felt the withdrawal of his duster as she pulled him from it. He fell off...something as she took it completely off and tossed it aside. Could barely move. He tried to get up, but his muscles were useless. He could blink. So, he tried that but she was dragging him by one arm and he couldn't do a thing about it.

More pain. She threw him roughly against some metal pipes. He knew the chit was driven out of her gourd but had no idea it would lead to this. Thought it would be a bunch of violent and misplaced rage. Not whatever the fuck this was. He heard her speaking, her voice warped and far away sounding. Felt like there was cotton all in his head. Fuzzy and itchy.

“Daddy's gone. He can't hear you”

He moved his mouth and found that he had enough control over his neck muscles and vocal chords to somehow speak but it was all slurred.  
“Goin down luv” He mumbled at her. Knowing she probably wasn't listening. Was he still awake?

He heard distant rattling and then the sound of her distorted voice in front of her again. It was really dark now. At the edges of his vision all he saw was black. Blurred in between. Harder to keep his eyes open.

“Piece by piece. Yellow makes you weak. Brown makes you sleepy” There was a small prick of pressure at his elbow. The....something...cube vein. He struggled to remember, tried to keep his head engaged. But then there was a pinch and another needle slid into his skin. He shuddered, feeling the results instantaneous.  
“Can’t hurt me anymore” She whimpered.

It hurt to breathe. Didn't know why he was doing it. Instinct? He clasped onto her words. Hurt her? The fighting? That was just fighting. He never hurt her.

“Crazy little...I never...”

She shushed him, “Hold still. Count backwards. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven....” And everything went black.

~  
The conversation with Angel hadn't gone very well but in the end, he’d pulled out his secret trump card. Using Buffy against him.

Not long after he'd woken up from the generous nap that Spike had allowed him to take on the pavement outside did the shit hit the metaphorical fan. He didn't know exactly how long he'd been out but it was enough time that Spike had apparently rushed in and found the girl, and also found himself at her mercy. Angel had gone in after the missing English vampire. Whatever had happened after Angel had descended the steps to the old distillery didn't take long, as Angel was returning from the cellar with Dana in tow not long after that. What was odd was the number of vehicles and the ambulances that had arrived on scene.

He had expected one for Dana. Although that was all irrelevant as he was about to take Dana into his custody whether Angel liked it or not. He had a group of Slayers waiting to swarm in numbers if the situation got out of hand. And after Giles' warning that Angel was stubborn and wouldn't back down without a fight, he was pretty much counting on it. It was the other ambulance that had him confused. Angel looked fine; he could barely see a scratch on the great brute. And as far as he knew, there wasn't anyone else involved in the situation except for.... oh....

And then he watched as they tossed the bleached vamp onto a gurney strapping him down tight. A bleached vamp who was definitely missing some key pieces. Andrew stared in horror at the bloody rags that were wrapped around the stumps of his forearms. “Holy moly...” He whispered to himself, getting closer to the scene. He couldn't see much detail from this far away, but Spike looked paler than usual and so much more fragile than he'd ever seen him. The girl called Fred was rushing in, talking briskly on the phone with a cooler in her hands marked with the bio-hazard symbol. “We have his hands” He heard the girl say and climbed into the ambulance behind him. They shut the doors and were off, sirens blaring, carrying their undead patient. 

He turned to face Angel who was speaking with Wesley and straightened his jacket. He wasn't afraid of Angel. Time to show him who was boss...and if that didn't work.... well...use Buffy.

And here he was now, standing in the doorway of the hospital room. He had a few blue 'Get Well Soon!' balloon clutched in his hands. He was hesitant to look upon the man before him. Hospitals always freaked him out, they reminded him off at the badness that could happen to the human body, like his Nana. It strange to see someone as powerful as Spike completely unconscious. This might be the only time I've ever seen him so peaceful. Without the anger, bravado and swagger guarding him. He thought to himself. And it was a good look for him. He looked sweet and carefree.

He'd been informed that he would be out for at least a day or two. It was going to take an immense number of drugs pumping through his undead veins to keep him sedated, not only through the surgery itself but to keep him under to allow him to recover. Thankfully there was no issue in the reattachment of his hands, as Wolfram and Hart employed the finest doctors in the world, and he would fully recovered within a few days. He just had to not move which was the biggest issue. Spike got bored. Very easily.

He knew that this wasn't a life-threatening issue for Spike. It wasn't like he ran around getting limbs detached and sewn back on in the 'good ole days' but thanks to his vampiric healing, he would be ready for discharge quickly. But in that moment, he looked so.... fragile. So unlike Spike. Anti-Spike. Sounded like a cool superhero. Anyways...

He debated for a while. He'd sat down and tried talking to the unconscious vampire, not like he was going to converse back but he'd seen in movies that they could still hear you. And he thought maybe Spike would want to know someone was there with him. He thought of their conversation earlier that night. About Buffy. He'd never really been in love, I mean there was that crush on Warren, but he felt like there was a huge difference between that and the way that Spike had acted around Buffy before the incident at the Hellmouth. He was also positive that he'd struck a nerve when they were talking about her in the alleyway.

And the way Buffy was acting? The poor girl had never been happy since she left the States. He had talked to Dawn last night, just to catch up with her when they had gotten to talking about Buffy again. Dawn told him that when she'd come home from her latest date with Ciro, she thought she heard crying. She wasn't supposed to be awake, but she was worried about her sister. She didn't think she was happy. And he remembered how she seemed to be when Spike was still around and living at her house. She was confident smiling more and confident.

Andrew wanted them to be happy. It seemed like they would be if they were just together again. That's where the debating was coming in. He had a plan! He would bring them together. Be the perfect matchmaker! He knew that Spike would probably hate him forever and although that really hurt his feelings, because he really like Spike, this was something heroes did. Sacrificed themselves for the greater good. He would be like Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was going to go against Spike's wishes. Right now. Before he had the chance to wake up and spoil the moment forever. He was gonna call Buffy.

He breathed deeply and set down the balloons. His phone was in his front jacket pocket and he pulled it out sneakily. He knew wasn't in any danger. There was no way in hell Spike was going to be waking up anytime soon. But he had to be careful.  
His fingers hovered over the green button of his phone. Her name was already highlighted. He had tried to bring himself to do this for the past twenty minutes, but he couldn't stop staring at the sight of Spike in front of him. But after everything that happened to him? To her...? No more hesitating.

He punched the button and sucked in a breath as he pulled it to his ear, glancing over at Spike, checking for the thousandth time that he wasn't going to wake up. He was almost ready to chicken out. Every time the phone rang he was convinced that Spike's super hearing would kick in and his eyes would pop open and he'd be yelling crazy British insults like “blimey mate! Wanker! What the bloody hell is wrong with you, you ponce! But he didn't so much as stir and Buffy picked up on the fourth ring.

“Hey Andrew” Came her voice. She sounded so tired. He doubled checked the clocks. Oh god had he called her too early? Oh damn...it was like 4am over there.  
“Buffy! I'm so sorry! I forgot about the time difference. Your probably...”

“Wide awake. As usual. What’s up? Something go wrong with Dana?” Launching straight into business.

“Uh yeah. Well...no. And yes...” He stuttered.

A beat

“Andrew that made no sense. Even for you” He heard her sigh heavily. “Wanna try that again?”

“R..Right. Well yes, the mission was a success. Me and the Slayers have Dana in our protective custody. She's being looked over now by a doctor and we're working on having her sent back to London as soon as possible”

“Any trouble from Angel?” She questioned. He noted that her voice sounded flat. He knew the two had a history. He wasn't sure if she was going to be happy or angry about hearing about her former lover.

“Yeah. He reaaaaaly didn't want us to take her. Said that she'd killed people, so they had to take her into police custody and since she was psychotic and a Slayer, that Wolfram and Hart was gonna take her. You should have seen the look on his face when all the Slayers came out like a horde of zombies from Dawn of the Dead”

“He would be an asshole about it” She hissed into the phone

“I had to pull the Buffy trump card” Andrew confessed after a moment of silence

“The....what?”

“The Buffy trump card. As in 'Buffy said so....na na na na na na” He giggled at his own attempt at being funny and he heard her scoff. After a few moments of silence as if she was gauging if there was any more to the story and realizing that was it, she spoke up again.

“Is she hurt badly?”

“Well no... a little. None worse for wear. You Slayers are tough cookies. Nothing some rest, relaxation and doze or two of Thorazine won't fix. We're going to have to keep her sedated for a little while. I know it seems wrong she she'd been under for so long, but it really will help her in the long run. Just until we can get her settled back here”

“Right...cookies....comes with the package” She responded distantly seeming to ignore the rest of the message.

He switched topics “It was really the other guys.... guy” Andrew started. It was time to get the ball rolling. Here was his lead in.  
“Angel?” She snorted “That must be why he's so pissed off about us taking her. Because she beat him or something?” Man did he have a complex when it came to strong women. He just couldn't take that a girl, half his height and weight had more physical power.

“Well....not Angel so much”

“Alright Andrew, your being very.... cryptic. That's an Angel move. One I don't appreciate. I've had enough cryptic-ness in my short lifetime. Just be out with it. What happened that's got you all tied up in verbal knots?”

Andrew took a very...very large breath in. He was just starting to speak when he heard her rambling again.

“Did one of the Slayers die on the mission? That why the mission was a success but not a success? We gain a new Slayer for the price of another? Is she a totally lost cause? Cause I'm already hearing that and I'm not ready to give up on her yet. Is it...”?

“Buffy....” Andrew started and noted the immediate silence. “Buffy...it....it was.... the thing is.... the person that was hurt....and his hands....I mean they were gone! I mean one-minute hands.... next minute.... just.... gone...”

“Hands? There are hands? Andrew, I swear to god...!”

“It’s Spike....” Andrew finally squeaked out. Silence. He didn't hear anything. No breathing. No objects shattering in the background. Just...uncomfortable silence.

“Buff...”

“W..What?”

He sighed. “It's Spike, Buffy. He's alive.... or undead...or whatever he is” He paused and when he didn't hear anything he kept going. “I don't know how it happened. I was pretty shocked myself. But when I got to Wolfram and Heart, I was sitting there in my chair when Angel stormed in.....and Spike was right behind him”

“He's....Spike's...No... No it can't be him” He heard her voice crack. “He...he's gone”

“Buffy....he's alive. I was in the room with him. Hugged him. He was there and solid under my hands. We prowled the streets together!”

“There's just...no way” She breathed

“Buffy. You should know better than anyone that anything is possible. You died three times and came back. He's here in LA, and he's alive. He's hurt. But he's alive”

Her voice came on strong.  
“What happened” She demanded.

“Not totally sure. We were out tracking her. Spike's good at that, we followed her blood!” He announced happily but he could almost hear the scowl of her face over the phone. “Anyways....she got the drop on us. Literally. Jumped down from the rooftops and seeing as I was the.... well seeing as she reached me first....well she knocked me out. I think Spike fought her but then she drugged him. The doctors said she gave him two different kind of drugs. A drug used to treat muscle pains called RimabotulinumtoxinB which when overdosed on can cause a difficulty moving parts of the body and Succinylcholine which causes full body paralysis if used in a high enough dose. They were found in a kit left out and we think this is where Walter tortured Dana with the exact same drugs all those years ago.

“God that's awful.... what happened to Spike?”

“His hands.... she cut off his hands. Well...more like half his arms. Buffy it was awful.... I’ve never seen...”  
“His hands.... they’re...his hands are gone?” She sputtered

“Well no....they attached them back. He's here in the hospital recovery. He just got out of surgery not but an hour or so ago. He's supposed to be under for a while”

“Spike is.... alive...and has hands?”

“Yeah....he's gonna be okay” He spoke confidently. “I hope not too okay though. I totally ratted him out and now he's gonna hate me. Just when I think we were really starting to be friends....” He sighed dejectedly.

“Ratted him out...” The meaning dawned on her. “He didn't want you to tell. He doesn't want me knowing he's alive...does he?” She spoke sadly

“No....I think he does.... he just.” He sighed “I don't know. He was asking about you! But when I asked him if he wanted me to tell you, since he obviously hadn't. He said he'd take care of it”

“You said everything was good with Dana right?” He heard her asked and his brain struggled to catch up to her sudden switch in topics.  
“Uh..yeah. Yeah. She's gonna be on a flight out tomorrow. We'll finish taking care of her, run some tests and go from there. She'll be okay Buffy. She's with us now”

“Good. I'm going to need you in London with Giles overseeing this. This is my order. Thank you, Andrew. For everything” Finally he noticed, it sounded like there was something other than sadness in her voice, if not anything else. Just relief.

It was quiet for a while. He thought that she had hung up on him but then he heard the small shuddering intake of breath.  
“I need to see him Andrew” She whispered. “I'm coming over there. Please don't tell Angel. I'll deal with him later. I just.... I need to see him. Can you make travel arrangements for me and help me figure out something for Dawn? I don't know how long I'll be gone”

He smiled.  
“Of course. I'll get you a flight booked immediately. I'll have someone come pick up from your house, from the airport. The whole nine” He was quiet for a while “I'm really glad he's alive” He finally said and from the other end he heard her whisper  
“Me too”

~  
Buffy had been shell shocked when she heard the news. She was currently sitting by herself in the back of a private plane that belonged to the new council on a transatlantic flight barreling towards her home state of California. The flight had been nearly twelve hours and the flight crew kept telling her she ought to try and get some sleep. That she looked tired. To which she said, 'go to hell' There was no way she was going to be sleeping. She sat there, anxiously awaiting the landing.

Her mind was still playing catch up. After she'd hung up the phone with Andrew, she lost her composure. Everything around her had faded, like when you get tunnel vision, and she thought she might black out. So she tried to breathe deep, but it just came out as shaky gasps.  
Alive. Not Dead. He was not ashes and dust. Andrew had said himself that he physically touched him.  
She felt so many things in that moment. Ange,r relief, jealousy, hurt, longing, confusion, did she mention furious? Happy...for the first time in a long time, her heart clenched in a way that didn't feel like pain. Her mind couldn't seem to process which of these emotions was the most prominent but at least her body seemed to know what to do. It felt like she was a projection of herself, watching her body move around her apartment. She was filling up a suitcase, throwing clothes from her drawers in half haphazardly. Her body seemed to know she was in a hurry, leaving behind anything that wasn't essential. She was about to zipper the thing up when she saw Mr. Gordo sitting on her bed. Definitely essential. She picked up the pig, drawing in a breath as she squeezed him to her chest before shoving him in there too.

She failed to notice the opening of her door while she was rushing around the room.

“Buffy?” Dawn questioned, slowly peeking in.

She stopped. Dawn. Shit. She turned around with wide eyes and Dawn looked taken aback.

“Whoa...what’s going on. Where are you going? Are you leaving me!? Are you trying to run away again?” The girl practically screeched. Ouch. Her Ears.

Buffy tried to force herself to calm down but couldn't.

“Buffy...?” Her sister questioned again, making her way across the room and placing hand over her's. Buffy's hand jerked under hers and she looked to her little sister, eyes wide. “What is it...? What happened? Is everyone okay?”

Everyone. She meant the Scoobies. She didn't know. How could she? She hadn't even known until ten minutes ago and her mind was still processing it. How could she have not known. Why hadn't the stupid jerk told her!

“Its...” Buffy started

“Willow? Is she okay! Or Xander!? Please let them be alright! I just talked to them the other day!” Her voice rising on the decibel scale. Major ear ouchies.

Should she tell her? Over the past few months, Buffy had made a commitment to herself to be there more for Dawn and to keep her included in things rather than keeping her in the dark like she used to. She wasn't a child anymore and she wanted their relationship to be open and loving, like real sisters. Of course, there were still things she kept from her, like most of the details of her dates with Ciro, and especially the recent break up. But she wanted to be there for the girl, because for so long she hadn't. For so long it had been all about her. And bringing Spike back into their lives, if he still wanted to be, was something that included Dawn too.

Dawn had been extremely upset with her and probably disappointed about what had gone on between her and Spike before he'd left. She wasn't happy that her sister had forgiven him for his attempted rape and in most cases, she was openly hostile about his residence there. But she knew that Dawn cared about him. She didn't know the true depth of the bond between the two, but she got enough bits and pieces from the individual parties about what had gone on while she was six feet under. He'd been there to watch over her, protect her, help keep her mind off her dead sister and that Dawn had come to rely on him and trust him. So really, the choice on whether or not to tell her was a no brainer.  
“Dawnie....its Spike”

Her sister's eyebrow raised nearly off her face and she crossed her arms.  
“What about him? Buffy he's....

“...Gone...”  
“...He's alive” They said simultaneously.

There was a long pause between the two, each searching each other's face for any sign of a joke. Finally, Dawn spoke first.

“He's...what?”

Buffy sighed heavily and Dawn couldn't help but hear the relief in her sister's sigh.

“He's alive Dawnie. Andrew's in LA right now retrieving Dana, that Slayer that I told you about the other day. He went to see Angel about it and while he was there, he saw Spike, touched him. He was real. Spike's alive”

More silence

“But...but how? He...”

“I don't know Dawn. I don't know how he came back. I don't understand how it’s possible he could have come back, not after what happened. I don't understand it but...Dawnie he's back. And he's been hurt and oh god....” Suddenly everything felt like it was spinning. She felt Dawn lunge for her and grab her under the arms and half carry her to her bed. Dawn sat tentatively beside her, placing a hand on her knee.

“I'm going to LA” Buffy finally spoke. “Andrew called in a plane for me. I'm leaving as soon as possible”

Dawn started to speak but Buffy cut her off.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you, that its sudden. Andrew's gonna make sure your watched over but.... I need to go. I need to see him”

Dawn just smiled sweetly at her. “Of course, Buffy. Of course, you do. Here, let me help you pack. It looks like something exploded in there....and I think you have like six pairs of pants and no tops. Plus, I don't see any underwear or bras...”

The faint voice in Buffy's head that she associated with Spike reared its head. Not like you’re going to need them. They'll probably just get ripped away if there's a chance. Where the hell had that come from? She hadn't heard that particular stream of her conscience since before he'd left Sunnydale. Before he'd come back with his soul.

“Yeah...it looks like your right. Thanks Dawn. Make sure Mr. Gordo makes it in there”

So here she was, the nerves eating at her stomach. Why? Why hadn't that Jerk with a capital J told her he was alive? He had plenty of time to tell her. Six whole months. Six whole months of him knowing where she was and what she was doing, and he couldn't return the favor! Her mind tried to fill in the blanks. She tried to come up with the most logical reasoning for the stupid bleached idiot to not just give her a call and let her know he was still here.

Maybe he really didn't love her anymore. After he returned with his soul, he certainly acted different towards her. He wasn't the same cocky guy he'd been before. He didn't make any more perverted comments, didn't hardly smoke, and it had been forever since he had done that thing where he curled his tongue behind his teeth. He was tentative, cautious and quiet of all things. Before he'd gotten his soul he had told her so many times that he loved her. He'd never been reserved when it came to boasting his affection and told her more times than she could count. He whispered it against her skin when they were together, though it had fallen on deaf ears. He was so open with her and even when she'd told him to stop he continued to tell her. After he had returned, the only time she remembered hearing it was that night in the abandoned house when he'd told her just how much she meant to him. But after everything she had done to him, all the nasty things she called him and the hurtful things she had said to him, maybe they had finally worn him down.

She had thought that those last couple months together had been something special between them. After all the rushing, the intensity and animosity between them in their previous months together, the slow build up between them was oddly satisfying to her. There was an element that wasn't there before. The connection between them was more than being just a tentative ally or the engaging each other in pleasure, it was something deeper. There was a new growing friendship that she had wanted to explore. She relied on him as her go-to second in command. She could always count on him to watch her left and protect her friends and family when she couldn't. In those last couple months, the missing piece of their previous relationship had finally presented itself. Trust. She finally trusted him.

When she had finally realized that she could really trust, not just him, but trusted herself to him, that was when the chips fell into place. Those tender moment of dark comfort in the calm before the storm spoke more words to her then all of the dirty little things he loved whispering to her. And those meant a lot. But maybe he hadn't felt the same way after he came back. After all, he'd shot her down in his final moments. Hadn't he? Well no...not exactly. He didn't say the words 'I don't love you' he'd said No you don't. But thanks for saying it

And her mind reeled back to anger. That jerk! Again with people telling her how she did or didn't feel. She was tired of all of the people she trusted the most telling her what she was supposed to feel. Angel, Xander, Willow and Giles, all of them did it to her in one way or another.

How dare he try and play something that important off like that?! This was something so monumental to come from the mouth of Buffy. Because love? She had always felt it was impossible for her. After everything she'd been through, everything that she had learned about herself, she didn't think she was capable of it. Love was altogether something that she, a Slayer, couldn't possibly achieve. Even the love of her friends was something that she struggled with. What chance did she have for a true loving relationship with someone? But in the end, seeing him change, seeing the person that he'd started out as and the person that he'd been in the end? Somewhere along the line she did fall in love with him. She wasn't sure when it had happened because she had failed to acknowledged her feelings for so long.

So those final moment, they really hurt her. She'd poured her heart and soul; baring it all out in front of him and the response she got crippled her.

After thinking on it awhile. For nearly twelve hours, give or take some time where she may have nodded off, she came to realize that him not loving her anymore couldn't be the reason. She wanted to believe that this was the truth so she could just hate him for it. Because she thought that it would make him being gone hurt a little less if she did. But it didn't work and, in her heart, she knew it wasn't the truth.   
It was the best night of my life. All I did was hold you, watch you sleep. And it was the best night of my life

That's what he told her when she asked what that night meant to him. She hadn't wanted to believe that? Her? The best night of his life?

She wasn't naive. She knew that he'd been around a hell of a lot longer than she had or will ever be. So when she thought about it logically, it didn't make sense that of all the things he'd done, all of things that he had experience in his former life and the decades that he been a vampire that he could be telling the truth about that. He had told her that he'd some sweet days, moments that she had no doubt she wanted to hear the explicit details about. She'd read about his life as a vampire. His title was William the Bloody for godsakes. She knew the feelings that she got in the heat of slaying and could only imagine how that compared to his wild blood lust days. Not to mention that for over a hundred years he had been devoted to one single person. She wasn't exactly impressed with his choice of lovers, because really? She didn't see what he saw in Ms. Crazy, but he loved her. Drusilla was his everything for an amount of years she couldn't even fathom.

And how could that night compare in his eyes any of the nights they had sex? Oh, dear god, the sex. By her knowledge and standards they had done some pretty intense things, although to Spike she probably seemed vanilla. He'd been able to take her places no man had ever dared come close to, granted that list was an extremely short one. He brought her to so many white-hot orgasms, such otherworldly pleasure that she hadn't thought possible. She'd let him do things to her that she never would have expected to like but afterwards she craved them all the more. So excuse her for not believing that when he'd told her that simply cuddling with her, laying there and watching her sleep was the best night of his life he was telling the truth.  
Right?

Could it have been? She hadn't taken the time to get to know him in all the time he was part of her life. She knew some of the things that he liked. She knew he like.... that god-awful show Passions, that he liked punk music, hot chocolate with little marshmallows. He liked to smoke but had no idea what brand he smoked. Seven years and she'd never cared. He liked whiskey. Leather....chaos? But she realized these were all surface observations. Anyone could hang around him for even half a day and figure these things out. She tried to think if there was anything deeper, but she kept coming up blank. She didn't even know his birthday for Christsake. Not like it was important to him but still, you knew your friends’ birthdays. She realized that she barely knew him. After all that time together, she barely knew what made up Spike the Person because the only thing she could focus on was Spike the Vampire.

And she had realized after he was gone, when she mourning the loss of his strong presence in her life, that she wanted to get to know him. She wanted to delve more into what made Spike so unique. What kind of movies did he like? Would he be the type to take her out on dates? What was his favorite color? His crypt was lavishly furnished. He seemed to have artistic flare and style. Did he like art?

She wanted to know what satisfied him. There was not a single doubt in her mind of his sexual capability. She'd realized very quickly that Spike was an extremely sexual creature. He was insatiable in the amount of times he wanted to have her and never got tired of her. Never got tired of doing the same things over and over because they were the only things she was comfortable with him doing. She hadn't wanted to do anything that would truly count as intimacy. Now she wanted to explore everything. Explore him. Because she had never done that either. Where could she kiss that would make him gasp and moan? What could she do for him that would have him buckle under with pleasure and make his eyes roll in the back of his head? What were his kinks? What spots made him scream? A satisfying shiver ran down her spine. Oh yes. She definitely wanted to explore.

Would she have the chance now that she knew he was alive.? When she got there would he welcome her with open arms? Or would they both be cowards again and avoid their feelings? She'd like to think it would be the former. The realization that the want....no...the need to love him, to be loved by him hit hard and fast. Right there on the plane. She wanted more then to just fuck him, she wanted to date Spike.

Maybe none of this was his fault. They were dealing with Angel here anyways. She knew how much he and Spike violently disliked each other. And she knew Angel. He'd think her too delicate, too precious, too high up on her golden pedestal to ever 'lower' herself to the depraved act of loving Spike. He still thought her the innocent little girl she used to be from a time that he was still clutching onto, a time long since past. She had grown up so much since then. Her view on the world, the people and creatures within it had changed. She used to think of Angel as everything, the ideal model of a man. Tall, dark, handsome, gentle and mysterious. But as she faced the realities of the world and the people within it, she cast aside that particular mask that blinded her.

Angel, the loss of his soul and the rise of Angelus had been the first time she took off her rose-tinted glasses and looked at the world for what it was. She'd thought of him as perfect, her knight in shining armor, her one true love. Now she could only look back and see all of his flaws. The biggest? Him treating her like she was an ordinary girl who just happened to draw a short stick in life. But she was not ordinary, she was extraordinary and capable of so much more. Spike had not only seen that but made sure to tell her. He glorified her, but not nearly in the same way as Angel.

Her thoughts were broken when she heard the static of the inflight PSA.  
“Miss Summers, we're starting to descend into Los Angeles now. Please buckle your seat belt and remain seated”

They were already here. Wow, that twelve hours went by a lot faster than she thought. It made this all the more real. Spike was real. He was alive and soon, she was going to see him again. She knew first though; she was going to have to talk to Angel. And when she said talk, she meant argue because she knew the conversation wasn't going to go well. If Andrew had just stuck around a little longer, she would have been able to bypass talking to him completely, but he had to get Dana and the others Slayers back to London as soon as possible.

But she knew how to deal with Angel. She'd walk right into his stupid company and demand his audience and not take a single no for an answer. She was done letting him tell her what was best for her.  
I know you had something to do with this. She thought to herself. Even though I know it was ultimately Spike's decision to not contact me, I know you did or said something to him to make him stay quiet.

The decent to the ground was gentle and moments after they touched down on the private airstrip, she was whisked away into a big black car. She was used to all the hustle and bustle travel now. She'd never been on a plane before all of this. Her entire life was in California. It’s not like she was going to travel to Spain to see her father and his secretary. No, this girl's feet were planted firmly on the ground....well most of the time they were. Now she was used to being shepherded around like cargo. Moving from one great city to the next. Moscow, Sydney, Glasgow, Cape Town. Hot, cold, rural, urban. She'd always wanted to travel as a kid, and now she was living that dream.

LA though...the one city she never thought she'd have to come back to. Never wanted to come back to. It held so many memories, most of which were unpleasant. Like having to leave her friends behind at Hemery because she was suddenly a little freak that burned down the gym...or the time she had run away from her friends and family and became Anne. And of course, it housed the biggest Jerk with a capital J of all. But maybe now she could make some better ones and not hate it so much.

As they made their way into the inner city, her eyes zeroed in on the slanted building that was Wolfram and Hart. Its stupid evil slanty-ness. That her ex-boyfriend was now the CEO of. She steeled herself as the car got closer and closer. When they arrived in front of it, she burst out of the backseat of the SUV, barely managing a thank you to her driver as her heels clacked violently on the pavement outside its evil doors.  
Showtime.

She threw open the lobby doors, ready to take out anything or anyone that so much looked at her the wrong way. She marched over to the secretary and....

“Buffy!” A cheerful voice called her name and suddenly she was face to face with Harmony. Oh yeah. Harmony was his assistant. That didn't stop her though. Oh no. She'd dealt with this bitch for far too long, both as a pretentious lemming of Cordelia in high school and as a so-called arch nemesis after she'd been turned. Not to mention she had slept with Spike on occasion so okay, a little jealousy much.

“Harmony” She growled out

“I didn't know you were coming in... come to think of it I don't think anyone knew. Angel would have known you were coming because you would have been on my schedule!” She chirped happily, gesturing towards her computer.

“Get him down here” Her voice was angry and clipped

“Well...he's kind in a meeting right now. Some pretty important guys. They're...”

“I don't care if they were the president of the next dimension. Get. Him”

“Well actually they....”

“Harmony” She glowered

The blonde in front of her balked and looked to the phone, tentatively grabbing it.  
“Okay...but if I get fired, I'm totally gonna get you back” She warned, trying her best to be scary. She wasn't even mildly. Buffy didn't even get strong tinglies when she was near Harmony. She watched Harmony pick it up and start pressing buttons.  
“Boss...” She heard the girl over the counter whisper tentatively. She paused “Yeah I know who you’re with...but you don't understand....” Another long pause and she could hear his heated voice from the other side. Harmony was clearly losing the battle. She all but growled and grabbed the phone from her hand. Harmony gasped in surprise as she took it and made a move to take it back but was quickly overpowered.

“If you don't get down here in thirty seconds. I'll come up there. And you know you don't want that happening” She threatened. The other side of the line was quiet. Had he already hung up? But then she heard it.

“....Buffy?” His voice was soft and tentative.

“The one and only” She harshly replied.

She heard some talking on the other side of the line. There were some low voices in a clacking language that she innately knew was of the demon variety, followed by the bark of Angel's voice. She heard him yell the name 'Wesley' and then there was more shuffling. Finally, after a minute of garbled words and distant shouting she heard his voice clearly again.

“Come up to my office. Top Floor. We'll talk there” His voice was clipped and sounded angry. Good. She didn't want him to be all sweet and mushy. She wanted him to be angry so she could reciprocate the animosity right back at him. Oh, she was pissed. She all but shoved the phone back into Harmony's grasp and turned violently on her heels, heading towards the elevators.

She made her way to his office. All eyes were on her as she thundered down the long hallway that lead to her office. She wondered briefly if all these demons could sense the power of her presence. If they knew who and what she was as she passed by them. Anyone in her way parted without hesitation. She was a woman on a mission. Part of her was still nervous about what came next. Seeing him after all this time. But she shoved it down for the time being. She had to get to Spike and Angel was standing in the way.

She threw open his door to find him sitting casually in his chair, his hands folded together, elbows resting against the larger than necessary desk. Complex much? She closed the door behind her and crossed her arms over her chest. Setting the tone of their meeting before he had the chance.  
“Buffy. What are you doing here” He asked, his voice steady and even.

“You know what I'm doing here” She retorted bitterly

“No Buffy....I can't say that I do. So why don't we skip all the anger and dancing around each other and get straight to the point. That meeting you pulled me out of for whatever this is? That was not some tea party between friends you interrupted. If I don't get back there soon there could be serious consequences”

“I'm sure you'll be able to handle it”

“Buffy” His tone was angry and warning. She watched as he suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. She'd seen Spike do it before, it was like a dog picking up on a scent.

“You smell like sex” Angel stated with a frown upon her face and Buffy balked.  
“Excuse me!? What is it with you vampires and pointing out weird things like smell and taste? Also....what does it matter? I'm a big girl now Angel, I'm allowed to have sex if I want”

Angel paused. “...Who is he? This was recent”

Enough with the brooding and creepy vamp senses. This was definitely not something she wanted to talk to her ex about. She needed to get off this subject.  
“Andrew told me he's here” She spoke.

Angel raised a brow on his great forehead and gave her a yeah? So what? Kind of look.  
“You just missed him” He stated flatly. “Are you guys really that out of sync that you don't call to let each other know where you are?” He questioned, clearly trying to get under her skin “He told me about your little order. I get it. The Slayer is yours. You didn't have to travel halfway around the world to come and rub it in my face. We get it. You don't trust us” He sighed dejectedly. “You don't trust me”

“Your right” She answered, “I don't trust you” And she watched his face fall in defeat. “I can't trust you because of this” She gestured to the office around her. “This place is evil Angel. How am I supposed to trust that you’re not under their influence? That every decision you make here isn't because some evil PTB is whispering in your ear?” She questioned. He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

“But that's not why I'm here Angel”

He sighed sadly. “Then why are you here”

“I know HE is here Angel. Andrew told me. I know he's alive”

She watched for any reaction. But his face remained a mask.

“I don't know what you’re talking about” His voice perfectly monotone. Not giving a single damn thing away and it was infuriating.

“Spike. Dammit. I know Spike is here. I know he's been here for over six months! Andrew told me that he's here. That he's been working with you. Helping track down Dana. That he'd been hospitalized” She got herself really worked up. “I want to see him Angel. Just tell me where he is and I'll be on my way”

Angel was silent. She could practically feel the brooding setting in. She watched some of the rivalry and jealousy creep behind his mask of indifference.

“Don't try and tell me I'm wrong. I know I'm not. Just tell me where he is, and I'm gone”

“Buffy...”

“Don't Buffy me. I'm here in this godforsaken city for one reason only and you’re the only thing standing in my way”

“Even if I tell you where he is....” He mumbled

“Which you will” She retorted

“He doesn't want to see you”

She felt the pang of doubt in her heart. The one thing she was worried about. That she had come all this way only to find out that he indeed wanted nothing to do with her anymore. That what they had together was over and done with six months ago when he'd given his life to save the world.

“I think that's for him to tell me himself” She fired back, hoping none of her doubt had shown in her composure. Hope he didn't notice the slight waiver of her voice.

“Why do you think he never came to find you Buffy? Huh? Why is that?”

“Oh I have a pretty good idea of why?” She stated dryly

“You think I had something to do with this?” He accused

“I think you have everything to do with Angel. I think the reason he didn't come and find me was because you played him. You knew his feelings for me and you manipulated them. You told him something stupid like 'Buffy wouldn't want you to come after her” And because he actually has feelings and because he loves me that much....he listened to you. Even though he hates you” She watched the look of utter disappointment wash over his face. There was a time that seeing Angel's face fall in defeat like that would have broken her heart. He was her first love after all. But she wasn't that child anymore.

He sighed heavily.  
“Even if all of that was true. I know he doesn't want to see you”

“Oh yeah? Did he tell you that himself?”

“He didn't have to Buffy. For six months he's been here and not once has he ever asked where you were! Not once! He never made one effort to find out where you were so he could go to you”

It was Buffy's turn to be taken aback. That couldn't be true...could it?  
“Your lying” Doubt finding its way out through the cracks of her voice.  
“I'm not” He retorted without a beat. “He never once asked me. Hardly even mentioned you at all” He tried to use as an excuse, but Buffy, realizing his plan of attack, caught on.

“Angel. We both know Spike would never talk to you about anything important to him. When would he ever ask you for help?”

As she fought Angel blow for blow with words, sparring verbally with her great hulk of an ex, there was a tiny nagging in the back of her brain that wondered....could he be right? Did Spike really not want to see her? Was she completely crazy in imaging that things would go back to the way they were before? Spike had changed as a person so drastically since she had known him. Maybe it was possible that he'd changed again in a way she hadn't expected him to.

But regardless if Spike had changed, she needed to see him. This was something that she had to do. She would be devastated if Angel was right and that he no longer wanted to be a part of her life. She had gone six months, grieving every day for the loss of her vampire and she thought that had been hard. It had weighed down so heavily on her body and soul in trying to cope with the emptiness that had taken over her head and heart. She didn't even want to begin to imagine what the pain, of a completely different variety would do to her troubled psyche. Her mind struggled to cope with seeing him again, alive and well and hearing him speak with his own mouth that he couldn't do this anymore. Didn't want to.

And she had given him every reason to. She knew in the back of her mind, that he was well within reason to turn her away without a second glance. Give her the ole two finger salute and tell her to get the hell out of dodge. Throw her a couple nasty insults, accented by placement of a few colorful British slang words, or American ones. She hoped that it wouldn't come to that, but she started to prepare her heart for it just in case.

When Angel failed to come up with an answer after a long moment of silence, she took a step forward and got up in his face.  
“You listen to me. This isn't about you anymore. There isn't an us. There isn't a chance for us” She started to explain.  
“Buffy” He growled in a warning tone “You can't mean that. You can't think of him like that. Spike is a monster. Always has been, always will be. Trust me when I say I know the real Spike better then you ever think you will. He can never change what he is. Even if he does have a soul, he's still a monster at heart. All he's ever going to do is disappoint and hurt you”

“Thank you, Angel. Thank you for informing me of the inability to make decisions for myself” When he started to speak him, she cut him off immediately. “No. No clearly you're just like everyone else trying to tell me what's best for me. My friends, my sister, my mom, Giles. Every single one of you think you know how I should feel and what I should and shouldn't be doing with my life. So thank you for that. Thank you for being like everyone else” Her eyes bore into his and she watched the emotions of the rich chocolate brown eyes staring back into her flash with a cocktail of emotions. Anger, defeat, love, jealousy. But when he didn't say anything, she reveled in the victory over him and continued.

“I am finally going to make decisions for me without worrying what literally everyone else thinks. I am going to see Spike and you are going to tell me where he is. If I have to fight you to get it from you, it's going to royally piss me off but I'll enjoy beating you down” She watched him shift uncomfortably “Angel....I loved you. You were my first love and I'll never forget what he had” Her voice softened. “You helped me to grow, helped me start to find myself, you were my first sexual experience. But I was a child then. A stupid little girl who didn't know the true harshness of the world. I didn't have to worry about my friends and how I threatened their lives every day or my little sister nearly getting herself killed. I didn't have to worry about coming home to find my mother dead or paying bills like an adult when I was still a kid myself. I was just the Slayer in high school, dealing with stupid tests and dumb human boys. It was simple back then. We were simple”

“It can be like that again Buffy. Things are different now. We're both different. I've never....” But Buffy held up a hand and he ceased speaking.

“But I'm not. Simple. My life is a world of complicated, full of completely un-mixy things. I'm different, and so are you. We're not anything like the people we were. And Spike? He helped me grow. He helped me after you had left. He didn't realize it at the time, and neither did I, but it turns out that I needed him all that time....and I need him now” She could feel the tears prickling her eyes and blinked them away. She hadn't wanted to let Angel see this side, just all of the anger. Anger was much easier to deal with. “I love him” She breathed the words, testing their weight. It had been so long since she'd said them aloud. “I love him” They fell from her lips again, a faint smile ghosting her features  
“You don't love him” He growled venomously “You just love the idea of him. The sacrifice and the saving of the world. He died for you”

“And there you go telling me what I don't feel” She spat right back at him, throwing the same venom in his face.

“I'm sorry but in this case its true. What do you think is going to happen? You going to go see him and suddenly everything is going to be better!? Do you even know who he is? Have you forgotten what he is? What happened to finding someone normal? Someone who's better for you? Someone who can give you a normal life?”

“Your right Angel....I don't know who he is. I only know a little about the demon. I wasn't alive to get to know William the Bloody and your right that I shouldn't want try. But I do. I want to know everything about him. I want to know who he is. I realize that now. I never had the chance before, and it wasn't until after I thought he was gone forever that I realized how much I wanted him apart of my life”

“You can't mean that. Think of what your friends will think. Your watcher. Your sister”

She darkly chuckled at that and he was clearly not as amused. “You clearly don't know anything that's going on with my life. I barely talk to anyone anymore. I miss them...but we've kind of drifted apart. We're all over the place and it’s hard to keep in touch. Not to mention that after I died and they brought me back, there was always going to be a rift between us”

“You'll always be friends” He tried to comfort her. “Distance doesn't severe connections completely”

She ignored him. “And Dawn loves him. So she'll probably be ecstatic” She sighed “You might be right about Giles. He'd disapprove greatly. But it’s been a long time since Giles has had my respect Angel. He's done some pretty awful things to me. And I haven't had a Watcher in a long time”

“I'm done making my decisions based off whether my friends and family are going to approve. You don't have anything over me Angel. I won't stand here and be swayed by petty arguments. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. One way or another I'll find out where he is. Even if I have to go to every hospital in this city to find him. And I will”

He sneered at her but finally walked around to the other side of his desk. He grabbed something from a top drawer as well as a pen and started scribbling.

“You’re going to regret this. Buffy, this will not end good for you. Your either going to end up heartbroken or dead”

“Nothing I haven't felt already” And her voice took on a hauntingly honest tone. She watched as his face fall in regret.

“Buffy...I'm sorry...I didn't....”

“Yes, you did. But like I said Angel, I don't care what you think anymore. I don't care what anyone thinks. I'm tired of living by everyone else's rules and expectations. It's time for Buffy to be happy”  
She eyed him warily as he stopped writing and slid card over to her. In his neatly scribbled handwriting, she was able to make out the name of the hospital and the room number.  
“I'll call over to security know so they’re aware you’re coming.”

She nodded curtly and stuck the card in her jacket pocket, clutching to it desperately to make sure she didn't lose it.

“Thank you” She finally said, realizing that this little piece of paper was all that separated her from him now.

He was still glaring at her with a mix of dulled venom and heartache. He thinks he's finally lost his poor little Buffy. Well....she's been lost for a long time She thought to herself as she made her way to the door. “I'll see you around” She said breaking the silence and walked out before he could get another word in.

~

The hospital owned by Wolfram and Hart was state of the art. She was well and truly floored when she walked through the automatic sliding doors. It didn't feel like a typical hospital. Which was good, because she was really tired of being in hospitals. She felt like half of her time growing up was spent within the sterilized walls of Sunnydale Memorial. Willow, Xander, Cordelia, Riley, Mom....all of them had been in the hospital at one point and with the exception of her Mom, all of them were because of her.

She knew that this was the reason that most Slayers were alone for their lives. Why they chose to live their lives alone, save for their Watcher. No one should have to feel all of the emotions that came with the realization that you were the reason that someone got hurt badly enough for them to need expert medical care. She should have taken a page from Kendra and ignored everyone, so she didn't wind up hurting them. But she was selfish. How could you blame her? She was a fifteen-year-old girl. And just like every other high school girl just wanted to have friends, go to the mall, shop for shoes, have fun. And she wanted someone to do all of that with.

And it had turned out to be mostly okay. She would never forgive herself for all of the time her friends got hurt. But on the flip-side of the coin, without the love and aide of her friends, it was likely that the world would be gone three times over. Spike had once told her something that at the time, she'd shrugged off because one; it was Spike and two, she violently disliked him. But she'd come to realize that if you filtered through all of his pet names, innuendos and bullshit, he actually said some pretty profound things.

“The only reason you've lasted as long as you have is you've got ties to the world. Your mum, your brat kid sister, the Scoobies. They all tie you here”

In his normal backhand compliment kind of style, he'd told her something that she hadn't realized at the time. He did that a lot it seemed. He may have done it in a way that made him seem like he didn't care, but she knew now it was probably because he had cared so much but was confused and angry about his feelings for her. That and he hadn't wanted anyone to know that the Big Bad had soft spots.

As she walked through the lobby of the great open building, she could feel many pairs of eyes upon her. It made sense. She was in the middle of a hospital that attended to not just the human population of Wolfram and Hart, but it's demon clientele too. No doubt that some of them were powerful and knowledgeable enough to know she was a Slayer. Her senses felt a bit on overload as her body told her that there was danger all around her. But she made it to the front desk with no issues. In this place it seemed it was neutral ground.

“Hello” She spoke, getting the attention of then human looking man at the front desk.

He looked up and gave her a pleasant smile. “How can I help you sweetheart?”

“I umm. I'm here to see Spike. Angel said I was being expected” She replied.

“You’re a Slayer” He noted idly and looked at his computer screen and there was a bunch of clacking of the keyboard. A Slayer. Not THE Slayer anymore. Part of her was relieved. She no longer had the single responsibility to be the one to save the world. She had help. She still spent a lot of time doing Slayer things like patrolling, but most of the time she was just teaching other new Slayers about the world she had lived in for the past eight years. She had a lot more freedom in terms of living a normal life. Because of that, part of her mourned the loss of something that made her truly special. She had always taken her Calling as a Slayer for granted. She was no long The One. Except to him.

“Yep” The man finally spoke, pulling her away from her thoughts. “Gotcha right here. Message from the big man himself. “Says here I'm supposed to let you know that.....” And she watched him press index finger to the screen. “He's extremely dangerous, don't listen to anything he says and....your making a big mistake?” The man’s eyebrow raised when he looked at her.

Buffy scowled.  
“Could you please direct me where to go?” She asked sweetly, trying to mask the venom in her voice. Of course, the jerk would pull something like this.

“He's down in the basement” The man spoke. He shuffled around his desk a bit and procured her a plastic pass. “Just take the elevator down to the basement floor. You'll have to wave that in front of the sensor before the elevator will go down and then again in front of the double doors when you get down there”

She took the pass and tucked it into her jacket pocket. “Is all this really necessary?” She asked and the man just shrugged.

“You got me sweetheart. I'm just here to direct people”

“Thank you for your help”

“Welcome. When you’re done, just drop the pass back off to me. Visiting hours are over at 9pm”

She looked up at the clock. It was already almost 7pm. Two hours. Was that even enough time? But she nodded at the man and turned to catch the elevator down.

As she made her way down to the basement, the unpleasant feeling of a heavy stomach settled in. Her fight with Angel had made her forget how nervous she was to be here. Anger was always the best way to distract her. But now she was here, just moments away from seeing him again and her anxiety came back in full force. She tried to calm herself down  
“It's just Spike” She whispered to herself, as that would make anything better. Just Spike? He wasn't just Spike anymore. Maybe at one time, long ago when he wasn't even on her radar. If he was just Spike then she wouldn't have given a flying fuck if he had landed himself in hospital. But everything was different now.

The elevator finally 'dinged' announcing its presence. She stepped in its open doors and swiped the pass in front of the scanner, pressing the B. Her stomach lurched as it started to make its descent and it only added to the rolling feeling of her nerves. She tried to take in deep calming breaths, but it felt like she was trying to breathe in through one of those tiny little coffee stirrers. She felt like she wasn't getting enough air, like she was suffocating. Why was this so hard? Her skin was getting hot and tingly and she felt self-conscious that she was perspiring extra. Oh god what if he could smell her way before she even got to him?

In moments, the elevator stopped and once again opened its doors. The lighting was much dimmer down here. She wondered if it was a floor dedicated to just vampires. As she got out and looked around, she noticed that there weren't any windows. The double doors with the scanner were to her right and she stepped out to scan her pass. They opened outward and she took in a shaky breath as she passed through them.

The hallway was solid white cinder block and she noticed there weren't a lot of rooms down here. Compared to the floors she had seen while at Sunnydale Memorial which had as many rooms as they could physically cram into that space. She looked at the card Angel had given her and noted his room. B8. Guess they didn't expect that many vamps if there were only eight rooms on the floor. She started to make her way down the hall.

She could feel him as soon as she passed through those doors. No other master vampire put off the same feeling as him. That was when it all became real. She had half expected to wander down here and get to the room to find a big ole 'GOTCHA' poster courtesy of Andrew or Angel just because they wanted to fuck with her. But as soon as she felt the familiar full body tingle unique to only him, her heart lurched, and her nerves all ignited at once. He was here. He was really here.

She could see the door to his room at the end of the hall and she braced herself as she shakily started walking. It was so lonely down here. So quiet. She imagined its residents weren't going to care, probably preferred it, but it still seemed desolate. As she made her way down the hall she glanced into some of the open doors, being nosy as to whether their were other vamps down here. So far it was empty. All the doors were open and there wasn't a single staff member down here.

Could he feel her too? Was he laying there, unable to move just waiting for her to come through the doors? Did he care? Was he going to be happy to see her? The anxiety raised its ugly head again. She felt like she was being pulled underwater, constantly trapped under the weight of the oncoming waves that kept coming and coming. Finally, even though it felt like she was walking down that hallway for forever, she reached his door. She glanced over it numbly. There was a chart tucked into a folder hanging off the door, but she couldn't get her eyes to tear away from the whiteboard with his name on it.  
William Pratt. Not Spike. His true name. She'd never known his last name, didn't even think he had one to be honest. She repeated it soundlessly and a smile came to her face, it felt so right rolling off her tongue.

Her hand clenched around the metal doorknob. It was the only thing between them now. The only thing that was stopping her from seeing him. After six months of grieving over his supposed death, this thin very breakable piece of wood, was the only thing holding her back. And now that she was here. There was a brief moment where she wondered if she should just turn around, walk away and pretend this never happened. But no. She needed to do this. Needed him. This door was more than just a physical barrier separating them. It was a wall. The last wall protecting her timid, un-trusting heart. Opening it would cause all the barriers she had set to crumble all around her and leave her bare. Open for attack or open for love.

“Now or never” She whispered to herself and she pushed open the door.

The air of the room was cool as she stepped in. She noted there was a small hallway as she entered the room which prevented her from seeing into the rest of the room. She would have to step around the corner to see him. The layout of the room was doing nothing for her nerves. Not wanting any interruptions, she stepped forward enough to close the door gently behind her with a click. Finally, there was nothing holding her back, she couldn't run from this anymore. When she stepped into the room, the full body prickle became more intense. The two sides of her, the Slayer and the woman, both screaming to leave and stay.

As she started to turn the corner her eyes were glued to anywhere but his bed. She couldn't bring herself to look upon him right away. It was like when you went to a funeral. You knew it was a dead body in a casket, someone you knew but you couldn't bring yourself to look at them. She first saw the bunch of Get-Well Balloons sitting off to the side, courtesy of Andrew. Somehow, she didn't think Spike would care for them. She noted that it was deadly silent still. Why isn't he saying anything? She thought to herself Is he just as scared as me? It was hard, probably one of the hardest things in her life, but finally she willed herself to focus on the body of the man she'd thought to be dead, that had burned to ash over six months ago.

She had thought that she was going to able to hold it together when she saw him and was instantly relieved that he was asleep because she could not stop the tears from coming. She sucked in a breath, her jaw clenched, and her lower lip trembled violently as great sobs wracked her body. A violent amalgamation of utter joy, respite and residual pain had her trying to breathe through great heaving gasps. Her tears were hot as they streamed down her face, quickly causing her nose to run, make up to run and eyes puff up. She ran her eyes over his unconscious form and couldn't stop herself from wailing aloud, wrapping her arms around herself. Somewhere in the back of her mind she reminded herself that she was alone down here, and it was okay to cry. It was okay. Everything was going to be okay. Spike was here. Alive and in front of her. She hadn't wholly believed it until now.

A full body shudder made its way through her as she continued to cry. He was here. He was really here. She realized now that he hadn't been able to sense her because he was so heavily drugged. They had likely heavily dosed him so the brash blonde wouldn't try and fight his way out of the hospital after such a delicate operation. After all, this was more than just the broken bones and bruises he was accustomed to where he could go back to his crypt to rest and shake it off. He really needed the healing time to allow all of the nerves and blood vessel to have time to meld together again after being severed.

As her tears slowed, she wiped them away with the back of her hand, and not finding anything to use as a tissue, smeared it across her pants. Double good that he wasn't awake. She didn't want him to see her after all thus time looking so gross. Not that he would ever say she was. He always used to say thing like that.

“Are you completely daft? There's nothing on this earth, this whole soddin dimension that would make you anything less than the radiant goddess that you are.” He exclaimed from his sitting position on of the corner of his bed.  
“I don't want to hear it Spike. There's no way you can convince me I look good right now. My hair is a mess, I have no makeup on. And I need to leave. We're done here” She marched around his crypt, picking up her strung about clothes in attempt to get dressed as fast as possible

“Sod the clothes Slayer. You could slip on the most stodgy, ratty, horrid piece of fabric not fit for even a farmhand bumpkin and still look like a queen. You seem to forget that you've more than your just your natural beauty. You've got this....” Her heart began to stutter as he spoke. It was humbling to see one so gifted with words be brought to a standstill. “Well your eff...” She noted he stopped himself abruptly and she couldn't quite place the look on his face “Well you glow” He finished

The memory faded and brought a smile to her face. She couldn't wait to hear him speak, listen to the low velvet rumble, whether it was sweet nothings or quips at her expense. She would take everything and anything. The good and the bad, as long as she could hear him. It was one of the things she missed most while dating Ciro.

She drew her eyes across him. He was just as pale and beautiful as she remembered, and she made her way to the right side of the bed. He laid across the bed with his head at an angle on his pillow, exposing the curve of his elegant neck. His back was flat against the mattress and completely still with his lack of breathing. It struck her odd as she was so used to seeing him breathe, even though he had no reason to do so. The animation was so normal for him that she found his lack of breath unsettling. It looked like he was dead...which she supposed he was, but Spike was always so animated. He currently had his legs bent together; his body slightly twisted as he curled up in a half ball with his knees facing away from the door. Other than his arms, which rested palm side down on top of the cotton blanket, he was completely covered. The thin hospital sheets concealed him fully, wrapping tightly around his feet and ending at the hollow of his colorless throat.

She gazed upon his face affectionately. There were very few times where she was able to do such a thing. Most of the time it was her own fault for depriving herself of the sight before her. She made it a point to be gone and out the door of his crypt at a dead run after she'd been satisfied. Other than their first night together, she'd never even stayed the night with him. She wished now she had. He looked so peaceful. There was no scowl upon his face, no lust filled gaze, no theatrical bravado. He appeared to be so much younger and for the first time she gazed upon him and saw William, the human man. How old had he been when he was turned? He looked so sweet, so tender in his state of unconsciousness.

“Oh William” She murmured quietly, not trusting her voice

She raised a hand up and tentatively reached out to brush his cheek with her knuckle. His skin was so soft and smooth. The reality of the situation weighed on her again and with another rush of emotion, more tears welled. Touching him solidified the reality. Somehow, he had been returned to life. She wanted to know everything about what happened to allow this second chance, but for now she just basked in his tangibility.

She noticed as she continued to brush his cheek and trail her knuckles down the front of his exposed throat that he felt slightly warm. Before, whenever she had met vampires, they were room temperature at their warmest but felt cold to the touch in most instances. As she glanced at the bags that hung beside him, she noticed one which was deep red in color. Of course. They'd attached him to a blood bag. It would help him to heal and feed him while he recovered and had the lovely side effect of bringing a more human tint to his pallid flesh. Her knuckle stopped as it reached his right forearm. She pulled away with her knuckle and instead gently enclosed her hand around his thin wrist, fingering the plastic identification band for a moment before turning his arm over.

The scar from the surgery was already barely visible, no more than a pink line. Such a small little thing that had resulted from such a complicated surgery. Not long ago this was where his arms had ended, his hands removed at the hands of the girl that she was tasked with retrieving. She wondered in horror if he remembered any of it? Andrew had mentioned that Dana had drugged him prior to cutting them off, but she couldn't help but shudder in disgust knowing that there may be part of him that still felt it. As a vampire, he had a significantly larger pain tolerance. Hell, most vampires, Spike included, preferred a little (or a lot) of pain in their pleasure. But she couldn't imagine dismemberment being lumped into the category. Wanting to get away from the subject of pain and suffering she focused her attention back to his fully intact arm.

She noticed too that in addition to the color and warmth, the muscles of his arm appeared to look bigger, fuller than what she was used to seeing. Spike was in no way a lazy vampire. He loved to watch his stupid soap and lounge about his crypt, but being physical, whether fighting or fucking were his true passions. He was lithe and lean, and his muscle definition put the 'David' to shame. She didn't want to admit it back then, but she spent a lot of her time around him watching him, trying to catch glimpses of the way his muscles rippled under his skin as he moved. He must have been working out more, fighting more since he'd come back. He looked much like he did when he had first rolled into town when he'd threatened to kill her that Saturday night. Healthy. Lean and deadly like a jungle cat. 

And as healthy as he seemed right now, he was deceptively fragile looking. To see such a powerful being, a Master vampire, laying in a hospital bed and hooked up to a plethora of tubes, wires and machines made him look so...anti vampire. Human. She briefly looked over at the clock, noted that she had a little over an hour to spend here before she would have to leave for the night. She slipped off her shoes and made her way to the other side of his hospital bed, where there was more room for her. She didn't care if she'd get in trouble, she had to be close to him.

So she climbed up on the bed and scooched her way over to him. He was sprawled in an unusual position and although she knew he probably wouldn't wake she didn't want to take the chance, so she snuggled in close as best she could. She folded her knees to mirror his, tucked them against his covered legs and lightly draped an arm across his sheet covered chest. Then, with a smile on her face, burrowed her nose against the curve of his neck. She inhaled shakily and was disappointed that his familiar Spike smell was gone and the only thing he smell of was antiseptic.

It was oddly empty lying next to an undead body. Even in the times that she'd laid down next without running off, he was breathing. As her nose pressed into his neck, she noted the lack of his pulse or his heart pounding away underneath the arm across his chest. In these moments, his body was well and truly dead. It unnerved her, made her think of when she'd come home to see her mom laying on the couch, motionless and expressionless. And again in the coroner's office in the hospital basement. She was dead. Gone. She half expected for Spike to never get up, waited for doctors to come storming in and take him away. But she knew that this was the normal. Most vampires appeared like this all the time. Spike was just so full of life, so in love with being alive and apart of the world that it made this more pronounced.

But for all of the nerves, the uncertainty and the major wiggyness of the entire situation, she found more comfort here lying next to his slightly warm and breathless body than she had ever felt in Rome. She felt little more than cold comfort when she was around Ciro. He could sometimes make her forget just enough so that the pain she felt didn't hurt as bad. Pulled her head just above the surface of the waves to keep her from drowning but could never manage to keep her from going under. The ocean always managed to swallow her whole, no matter the life rope he threw her. For the first time in a long time, she felt her eyes close and it didn't hurt. She didn't have to cry herself to sleep and she did not tremble, waiting for the nightmare that plagued her mind. She closed her eyes, breathed in deep and relaxed into him, not knowing she'd be asleep within minutes for the first time in a long time.

~  
She had that feeling again, when her mind was working but her body hadn't quite started to react yet. Everything around her was hazy, black around the edges. She attributed it to being a Slayer. Her body may be mostly human, but in order to protect said human body, there was something deeper within her, more beast like that could override her mortal presence.

The full body tingle, denoting the presence of a powerful vampire came to her in full force. She could feel where her limbs were in relation to the space around her and her lizard brain noted that she didn't have a weapon to fight said foe. But wait.... she was with Spike. That would explain the tinglies. Wouldn't it? She reached out, sensing his presence, strong and steady under her but immediately noted the other presence, in front of her, watching her sleep. Her eyes snapped open and she glared into the sullen face of Angel, his arms crossed together over his chest.

“Buffy” He barked “What the hell are you still doing here”

She glanced over to Spike, whose position hadn't changed in the slightest and then up to the clock which read at 9:43pm. Oh. She'd overslept.

“Sleeping apparently” She mumbled, forcing herself to a sitting position and stretching out her rigid muscles, taut from laying in a not so traditional sleeping position for nearly an hour and a half. “I must have fallen asleep. Oh wow. I never fall asleep that fast” She mused

She caught the crestfallen look that washed over his face. Before, she would have felt guilty about that. She never wanted to hurt his feelings. But ever since he had moved away to LA, she found that whatever residual feelings she had towards her first love had all but diminished. He would always mean something to her. He had been such an important part of her life and taught her so many things about the world and about herself. But that part of her life was very much over for her. And he still clutched to it, waiting for her to come around. To become the sweet girl he'd once known that he could provide for and protect.

He didn't say anything in response but she noted the lack of mirthful sparkle that he always seemed to have when he was around her. Clearly, seeing her in bed, albeit not traditional but a bed nonetheless, with his biggest 'enemy had wounded him.

“Get up” He sighed dejectedly, forcing himself to look away as she regrettably pulled herself away from Spike and slid off the bed the same way she had climbed on. As she fixed herself up, untangling her hair, smoothing out her sleep stressed clothes and slipped on her shoes, she noticed that although he was still brooding, he'd pulled out of his pity party and the frown that graced his face was replaced by a scowl.

“You were told that visiting hours were over at 9pm” He uncrossed his arms and pointed in a sharp violent gesture to the clock. “It’s almost 10! And yet your still here”

“Calm down” Attempted to placate him. “I fell asleep. Big deal. I'm sorry but I don't feel like this is that big of an offense. After all you've been the only person to come down here. They've had well over forty-five minutes to come down and get me. Clearly they don't care that much”

“I care” He grunted “You were down here alone, with him” He hissed

“Yeah? And? I told you I needed to be here Angel. I told you I needed to see him” She glared right back at him but happened to remember the full body ugly crying she had done when she'd first saw Spike. She suddenly started wiping away the makeup that no doubt smeared her face in an unattractive manner, and she watched the look on his face grow solemn.

“Are you really so broken up over him?” He finally asked after a long bout of silence between the two

Buffy looked over her shoulder at him and felt the prickle of tears again at her eyes.  
“Yeah...” She breathed and sat back down on the bed near his chest. “I thought he was dead Angel. I haven't felt that empty in years.... the last time...was when mom died. I didn't think it was going to hurt so much” She clutched at her heart. “But the bastard had wormed his way in. Told me so many times that he loved me that I was numb to it. I was sick of hearing it. And then when I'd finally realized it.... he was gone. Smoke and ash”

“Buffy....this is Spike were talking about. Do you really think he's capable of the love you say he is?”

She glared at him. “How can you say that? You knew him way before me, better than me. Look at the way he loved Drusilla. Unconditionally. Worshiped the ground she walked on. How can you stand there and say he's not capable”?

“That's different” He countered. “Dru needed Spike. Needed someone to take care of her, and since I...” He faltered, not wanting to dredge up the past. “Since I was gone, she turned to him. That wasn't love. She was his sire. He worshiped her because she made him what he was”

“As much as I hate defending Drusilla....how could that not be love? He stayed with her for over a century, Angel. I may not be immortal, time may not mean anything to me, but I know that's a long time, especially for someone as powerful and sexually driven a vampire. To commit yourself to one single person...”

He laughed bitterly  
“Of course, you would believe that sob story. Woe is me I'm William the fuckin Bloody. I loved Drusilla with all my heart, my beautiful black goddess. I'd never shag another women in all my days” He spat bitterly in an over dramatic, and she might add terrible English accent. “You really believe that he was 100% faithful to her for a whole century. Get real Buffy. You don't know him. No one can be faithful that long.”

Her eyes grew wide in response to his statement and it was only seconds later that he seemed to catch what he'd said.  
“Wait...Buffy...that's not what I...”

“Can't be faithful that long huh?”

“Buffy I...”  
“Enough Angel. No more”

Her thoughts once again turned to the question that had haunted her for so long. What exactly was true love? Was she capable of such an intense emotion? Was Angel right? Was what she felt for Spike really love?

She knew she was at least capable of some kind of loving feeling. She loved her friends. Cared for them unconditionally, even after they'd drifted to all corners of the globe, she never stopped thinking about them. She loved her family. Her dad, even though he had made some truly poor decisions, was still her father. Her sister was her rock. Annoying as she was, she did everything she could for her, including dying. The girls had gone through some trying times at the end of days, but she chalked it up to the unrelenting torrent of negative mojo and sense of impending doom. But they were still sisters, and now, as they were on their own together in Rome, the Summers girls were the best of friends. The loss of her mother had stricken her down harder than anything else she had known up until then. She'd already been through so much, lost people, died once and none of it compared to the overwhelming grief and sense of hopelessness that she felt that day.

She hadn't felt anything akin to that until six months ago, when she mourned the true death of Spike. Spike, who according to her past self, Angel and pretty much the rest of the peanut gallery was unable to love. She had tried to convince herself with the same argument about him and Dru, that it wasn't love that kept him with her, it had to be sex. She couldn't bring herself to believe that a creature as evil as a vampire could feel something as complex as love. What she failed to realize all those years was that a vampire was not just the demon. It was a parasitic relationship. An unlikely symbiosis of demon and human. Sans soul. And it was the soul that defined humanity.

That's what she had wanted to believe. Forced herself to believe all those years. It wasn't until Spike had really started to change that she started to question her decision. It was always soul=good, no soul=evil. Angel was good. He had a soul, he loved her. Spike on the other hand, claimed he loved her but without the soul she wouldn't believe it. But then how did that explain Angelus? At the time, Spike had wholeheartedly thrown himself at her mercy. Let himself be subject to her biting words and physical abuse, still praising her, still desperate to prove that no matter what she threw at him, he would still stand by her side and always that he loved her. And she couldn't understand him. Didn't understand why a soulless thing like him seemed to have more passion, show more emotion for her, truly believe that he was in love with her when Angel's demon wanted to see her guts spilled across the floor and drain her dry.

Angel was just as much a demon as Spike, maybe more considering, but it didn't change the fact that during that time, he also had no soul. And he was completely different. As though they were two entirely separate entities. Hell. Angel had no memories of his time as Angelus. His soul seemed to intercept all of the pain and guilt that would otherwise wrack his now consciousness mind. So she begged the question, why did Spike change so little when he had retrieved his? What was so different between his blood drenched soul and Angel's? Perhaps it was the way they were obtained. Angel's was man made. Forced inside him to inflict lifelong guilt for the sins against humanity. Spike's was earned. Acquired by subjecting himself to what she imagined was the most painful and depraving gauntlet of trials known to demon kind. All for what? To prove that he could love. That he was in fact, worth of love.

Perhaps, when she'd come to realize all that he done for her. What he was willing to do, what he was willing to wait to do, was what made her realize that his love was for her sincere. She finally willed herself to speak, breaking the awkward silence.

“I know you'll never approve. But guess what Angel, I'm not looking for approval anymore. Especially not from you. You don't understand how I felt...can't understand. Everything hurt. Every day I would wake up knowing that I had lived, and he had died. We'd talked the night before, knowing that one of us not might make it...” She swiped away at the tears that started to trickle down her face, leaving warm salty trails down the already tear stained skin of her cheeks. “But I didn't really think it would happen. And knowing it was him? And not me? My heart had hurt for so long.”

She chuckled bitterly. “You remember earlier today? When you asked if I had sex?” She didn't check to see if he nodded. “Well I did. Not long before I found out he was alive. I spent the night at my boyfriend's house and for the first time in the four months that I had been dating him, I had sex with him. And you know what?” She asked, this time meeting his face.

In any other circumstance, his expression would have been heartbreaking. The sadness that she saw in his dark eyes was touching, because she could tell that he was finally beginning to understand the situation. “All I could think about was him. How much I missed being with him. All those times we were intimate, and I took for him granted” She didn't fail to notice the disgust and jealousy that flashed across his face, knowing his sweet little Buffy had lowered and defiled herself to lay with a creature lower than her. “Even though I was awful to him. Even though he should have run for the hills for the things that I did to him and subjected him to. He always stayed. He never left me. He was the one who said, “I love you” and he stayed” She finished her speech and burst into a fresh round of sobs. She buried her head into the crux of her right arm and broke down. She could hold the heartbreak in no longer and she turned to press her face against Spike's abs, letting his unconscious but still incredibly sturdy body hold her as she fell into a disheveled heap as grief and tears of realization flooded out of her uncontrollably. “Have you ever loved someone so much that you thought you might die too?” She blubbered.

Eventually, her tears stopped. She forced herself to laugh and wiped away what remained of her makeup on his sheets, smears of black and blue in such stark contrast to the white of his sheets and skin.  
“So yeah Angel” She started her throat swollen and voice rough “I really do think he's capable of it. And after he wakes up, I'm not going to be a coward anymore and I'm going to tell him how I feel. Really tell him. And we'll see how that goes. If he still loves me, I'm going to ask him to come with me, back to Rome”

“And if he doesn't?” He spoke glumly staring at the stains of her grief.

She took in a shuddering breath. “Then my heart breaks again. Then I leave for Rome and I don't come back. But at least then I'll know” But God please don't let it be that. I don't think I'll be able to handle it. Mourning his loss and thinking it was because he was dust was torture enough. I don't think I'll be able to handle it knowing he's not with me because he didn't want to be.

“He's not good for you Buffy...he...”

“Again, with the telling me what's good for me!” She interrupted. “Is there anyone on this planet that thinks I can make my own decisions?”

“But Buffy...”

“The answer is him if you’re wondering” She pointed a finger. “He's never told me no. Never tried to convince me of anything I'm not. Never tried to hold me back. He's always been there, accepted who and what I am” She smiled fondly at him

“But he can't give you a normal life. You can't marry him, he's not technically alive. He won’t work, you know it, I know it. You'll be making all the money” He scoffed “I doubt if he had any useful skills whatsoever, none that are legal anyways” And then he frowned. “He can't be there for you in the sunlight. Can't give you children”

Buffy sighed heavily “In case you haven't noticed. My life is never going to be normal. I may not be THE Slayer anymore, but it's still my Calling. For my foreseeable future, it's what I'm going to be doing. Maybe one day, hopefully soon, I can go back to school. But I don't even know what I would study anymore. This is all I've ever done. I don't know what I'm good at. And it doesn't matter that what we have won't be the perfect example of a nuclear family. Do you know how long it’s been since I've come to realize that having that perfect example doesn't exist? There are hardly any families like that anymore. What was normal back in your day, back in Spike's day, hell even ten years ago isn't what's normal today. Normal is always evolving. So no, it doesn't bother me because that's not what I see us as. I like the way our family is now. Me, Spike and Dawnie. It works” And she spoke it with a reverence in her tone.

She decided to skip over his comment about him not having any useful skills. The man had those in spade. But after everything that had already been said, she figured she could spare him a little bit.  
“And as for kids...” She shrugged “Who knows. I know he's not physically capable but I dunno if you've noticed Angel, but the times are changing for the better. How do you think gay couples have kids huh? Are they unnatural too?” Angel moved to put up his hands in protest “There are other ways of having kids these days” She paused “I know they wouldn't be his. But if he was okay with it, then maybe we could talk about options”  
As she looked to Angel, he didn't even try to conceal the hurt across his face.  
“You really think he'd make a good father? Trust a demon like him to take care of a child? Buffy you don't know him like I do”

“And you don't know him like I do” She retorted. “And I trust him with my life. With Dawn's life”

There was a long silence between them. She wiped the remaining wetness from her raw cheeks and affectionately running a hand down his leg before slipping off bed in search for her things. She made her way past Angel, who stepped into the shadows of the room and grabbed her bag, fishing for her mango scented chap stick which she desperately needed.

When she heard him sigh heavily, she expected it to be followed up with another lecture but when she turned to look at him, he was scribbling something down on another little card. She looked at him curiously, noting his indifferent mask had slipped back into place, like he had managed to zipper all of his emotions back into that big bulky chest of his. The sound of pen against paper finally ceased, she heard the click of his pen and then he stepped forward to stand in front of her. He frowned but held out the card.

She took it, tentatively from his powerful grasp and began to read the words upon it as soon as she could make them out.  
“This is...” She started  
“An address” He finished, confirming her suspicions. He exhaled  
“His address”

Her eyes jumped to his swelling in shock and the knowledge that came with it.  
“His?” She questioned and looked at the combination of numbers and words that made up one's residence

“You don't have a place to stay right? I'd offer you a room at Wolfram and Hart, but I guess it's the last place you want to be right now”

She couldn't believe it. She expected him to fight him every second of the way. Not like she was going to ask for where he lived. The thought hadn't honestly crossed her mind. She figured she'd call Andrew after she was done here and have him book a room for her. But this.... this was special.

“It's not far” She heard him continue when she didn't object to his question “And I don't think he keeps it locked. Though you might want to lock it behind you. It’s not really a shady area but you never know”

“Angel....thank you for this”

He nodded “I can't say that I'm happy. About any of this. I'd have really rather seen this go in a different direction. And as much as it hurts that its him of all things. Another vampire. I can't deny how real it feels when you talk about him.

She couldn't find the words for that, so she just nodded at him and gathered up all of his belongings.  
“Do you have any idea when he'll be awake?” She asked.

“It shouldn't be long. The doctors assured me that everything went perfectly and that they're keeping him so heavily sedated, an induced coma if you will, to make sure he actually heals. Attaching nerves is no laughing matter. And you know Spike, he hates sitting still”

“I've noticed”

“Angel....after this is over, whatever the outcome for me, I won't be back” She stated decisively. “I'm going back to Europe, either with or without Spike. You can't change that. If I can help it, I'll never set foot in Los Angeles again. Not unless the world is legitimately ending. In that one instance, I will come back to help, because my duty to protect goes beyond us”

And just like that, the mirth between them was gone. He looked truly defeated

“So that's it?” He whispered

“That's it” She responded with the same sullenness.

“So be it” He stepped closer to her and for what she knew would be the last time wrapped his arms around her. She felt tiny in his hulking frame. Once, it used to make her feel safe, all of that muscle wrapped around her in a protective embrace. Now she felt smothered and frail. It felt wrong and she knew decisively that this was the end for her and Angel. So not trusting words, she nodded into his chest.

“Goodbye Buffy” He spoke after a moment pulling away from her, looking at her with those deep brown eyes that she swore she could see tears collecting in

“Goodbye Angel” She whispered. She took one more look over at Spike, still blissfully asleep and unaware to the revelations that had gone on not but five feet from him. Smiled, knowing that soon, he would be awake and after soon long away from him, she hoped she would finally be with him. And then she turned and walked from his room and with a purposeful stride pulled out the card with his address and her cellphone. She dialed Andrew.

“Andrew it's me. I need a ride. I have an address”

~

Angel wasn't kidding when he'd said Spike's place was close. After leaving the hospital, she climbed into the waiting car that Andrew had called and gave the handwritten card over to her driver and in no time flat they were moving out into the traffic of LA.

She couldn't believe the turn of events that had come crashing around her within the past day of her life. Within twenty-four hours she'd been on a nice date, had pretty decent sex for the first time in over a year, found out that her former lover (was that what he was?) was somehow alive after being turned to dust six months ago, flown to LA, argued with her ex, reunited with said former lover (although it was purely one sided as of now), and said goodbye to her ex for good.

It seemed that chaos was always going to be an important part in her life. She thought that she was mostly passed this phase, what with not being The One anymore. The constant turmoil, always researching, always patrolling, always moving because some Big Bad was in town trying to kill em all. There was a part of her, the Slayer, that craved it. Craved the rush of emotions, the need to keep moving, the thrill of a good fight, the flirt with death. She'd been lacking a lot of those lately. Training baby Slayers wasn't the same. Fighting them was nothing compared to what she was used to dealing with and she hadn't had a good slay in a long fucking time. She was trying her best to simulate a real fight against vamps and had been fighting them for so long that she could at least give some very good insight in how they moved, what their gut reactions were and the spots they would go for. But it would much more helpful if she had a real vampire for the girls to fight. Someone who could really show them how vamps conducted themselves in a fight, go all out in pushing them to the limits in combat against an enemy that didn't easily tire, that fought to the death but with the added security that they would not receive a mortal blow.

She wanted Spike to be that someone. She trusted Spike with her life and with the lives of any girl he went up against. Because he would be rough, brutal and unforgiving, he would not go easy on them, but she never had to worry about him killing them. Plus, it would give her the chance to spar with him again too. A fight to the 'death' just like old times. Sparring with him provided so many satisfying things to her. It was a great way to keep her on her toes. Because they had been fighting each other for so long they knew each other's fighting styles. She knew he led with his left, he knew she always dropped her shoulder before an attack and that she loved her flashy spinning kicks. If they didn't change it up, create something new, the fights would get old fast.

Sparring with him was also a damn good workout. There was never a fight between them that didn't have her exhausted and heaving for breath, her muscles bruised and sore. Staying in shape was one thing that teenage girl Buffy didn't have to deal with. They were pretty evenly matched when it came to their endurance which lead to long boughs of cardio and strength training workouts. And she wasn't the only one who stayed in shape. Spike had never been anything but thin, lean and dangerous, even after all the human food he loved to consume. She never failed to notice the muscles the rippled beneath his clothing. Of course, that muscle was much easier to look at when he didn't have any clothes on.

Which lead her to last reason. Before he had come back with his soul, sparring always led to sex. The kind of sex that had them grinding each other into any available surface, using and bruising each other, both fighting for dominance. Turns out sex with Spike was just as good, if not better as a workout than fighting with him. When she fought with him, it was almost as if there was something within her that reached out to him on a deeper level. The darkness within her called out to his demon and beckoned him to shift and stir under the human mask of his host. Fucking him after he was empowered by their skirmish, high on adrenaline, hormones and her mirrored arousal lead to the most earth shattering orgasms he'd ever given her. Now that things were different, having acquired a soul since the last time she wondered if would be the same? Or could it get better?

In their previous trysts she quickly came to realize how responsive he was to her. It didn't matter to him what she was doing to him, he took what she gave and amplified it ten-fold.

Before she could divulge into more erotic thoughts though, the car was already slowing to a stop. How long had she been in the car? Less than ten minutes?  
“We are here Ms Summers” Came the voice from the other side of the dividing panel.  
Well that was fast She thought to herself “Thank you” She replied and gathered her luggage. She felt embarrassed for having called upon the driver for a distance that she could have easily walked.

Angel wasn't kidding when she had said his place was close. She stepped out of the car looked at the address written on the card, double checking that this was indeed where she was supposed to be. She never would have taken Spike for living in such a....human dwelling. She half expected to be driven out to a massive graveyard on the outskirts of town to find herself in some mausoleum. But she supposed this made more sense. Living here, he was closer to Wolfram and Hart where he'd been 'working.' The thought was unsettling. It reminded her that he had been here for six months and had somewhat of a normal life going. It was odd to think Spike had some kind of routine. It begged the question of how he got around back and forth to Wolfram and Hart in the daytime. And then! Holy shit! How had Angel been standing in that open office with the sunlight streaming in and not burn to ash!? She hadn't even thought about it while she was there. She was too focused, too angry with Angel to consider what was going on around her. She was losing her touch as a Slayer.

She noted the sound of an engine running and it brought her back to the physical plane. Her driver was still there waiting, making sure she got in safe before he left. She flashed him an apologetic look and made her way inside the group of apartments. She found it without problem, it being one of the basement rooms and with hesitation, grasped the handle and pushed it open. Angel was right. He didn't lock it. Of course, he didn't.

As soon as she pressed inside, she heard the sound of the engine moving away until it was gone, and she was left with the sounds and smells of the city in the background. It wasn't unlike her new apartment with Dawn back in Rome. It smelled a whole lot worse though. Like garbage, factory sewage output and with a very faint hint of salty ocean air Blech. At least Rome smell like baked goods and pasta...and garbage, but mostly those first two things. It was pitch black inside, which made sense as it was a little after 10pm out and she struggled to find the light switch. Damn vamp didn't have this problem. She found it to the left of the doorway and clicked it on. She paused a moment to look around and she hated what she saw.

She didn't even want to call this Spike's apartment, or flat as he'd call it. Weird British-y words. She scrutinized the small area around her in disbelief. There was very little about this space that reminded her that Spike lived here. She thought back to his lavishly furnished crypt, complete with antique candelabras, extravagant rugs and shelves full of books. His favorites seemed to be the combination of midnight blacks, blood reds and rich golds. Fitting for a vampire, the one stereotype he might actually follow. Instead, the walls were a pale blue gray color, not entirely ugly, but not Spike. Despite the fact that he used to live in a crypt, complete with dirt floor, stonewalls, cobwebs and oh yeah, the stone coffin in the center, he had managed to make the place seem....homey? And he was proud of it. She could tell that he had put a lot of effort into creating a space that he liked, that he wanted to be in. After she started coming to see him so frequently, he had even added things to make her feel more welcome.

She hadn't failed to notice while she was there that he'd had toiletries there for her. But she was so disgusted with herself and him back then that she could only think of these gestures as creepy and stalkerish, rather than the sweet gesture that he had intended them to be. She could only guess that he wanted her to feel like she could stay there, that it was her space just as much as his so she was less likely to leave. It had never worked of course, she always left him in the end.

But this? She walked more inside and closed the door behind her, rather than just standing and gawking in the open-door frame. This wasn't his. Well...that wasn't a completely true statement. It was his, she could tell by a few things about it that rang out Spike. The first thing she noticed was the shattered glass all over the floor. She scoff and rolled her eyes, stepping further into the flat until she was in the center of it. Only Spike would throw and shatter what she was sure was a liquor bottle and then leave it. She scrutinized the pieces on the floor and found a piece which she thought might be the label and carefully reached out to grab it. Bringing it just under her nose she tentatively sniffed it and proceeded to drop it with disgust. Yep. Definitely whiskey. Very Spike.

This was a moment she wished she had some kind of magic. Cleaning this up would be so much easier because she could guarantee that Spike did not possess any cleaning supplies.  
How the hell am I gonna clean this up? Wait...why am I gonna clean this up?! Stupid vampire made the mess, he should clean it up!  
Then again. She didn't want to have to move through the place with the fear of stepping on glass.  
I'll deal with that in a little bit She finally settled.  
Then she noticed the vinyl player that was sitting against the wall by the left headboard of his bed. She recognized it because he had one just like it back at his crypt. Not one for new age sources of technology, Spike seemed to prefer the retro style of a vinyl disc rather than the current CD's that were out now a days. The vinyl player was sitting atop a small wooden cabinet which contained multiple thin narrow slots, no doubt to hold the medium of choice. She noticed that each of the slots were already full. She had no doubt the kinds of records that he had over there, and perhaps before the night was over, she would finally get around to listening to some of them. In addition to the vinyl player, she noticed that he of course had a TV and what looked to an Xbox. Huh. That was definitely new. She hadn't ever seen him play any kind of game before, but it still fit within his childish attitude. Maybe if he had something two player, they could find new ways to kick each other's ass.

The final thing that she noticed about the apartment that made it his? The smell. Buffy Summers was NOT a vampire. She did not have the olfactory system of her chosen prey of choice and she didn't go around blathering that she was able to smell the arousal dripping from her like a certain vampire loved to point out. But she could pick out Spike's scent instantly. She was relieved when she had smelled him upon opening the door. Because of the small space, the distinctions that made the cocktail that was Spike smell seemed to be more concentrated. There was smoke, that was the strongest, and leather as well as a rich earth smell she could never seem to place. She chuckled to herself. Guess the leather duster came back with him when he did. Man, that thing was indestructible. She couldn't even count the number of times she had seen it get ripped up, slobbered on, covered in goo or stomped all over and the thing was still around. If it was some kind of indestructible armor, she really needed to invest in one.

She hoped it was still around and it hadn't just been replaced by another leather jacket. Spike in leather had always been drool worthy. Not a day went by where she didn't picture him in his typical get up of his tight black shirt, skintight jeans and the billowing duster. Some days he accessorized more, adding chains to his pants, or wearing spiked wrist bands or neck collars. Once and a while he even put the eyeliner and black nail polish on, though they hadn't made an appearance so much after he'd come back with his soul. She found that even though his style was completely opposite of her, it was distinctly him and oh so very hot.

And that was it. That was the tour of the place. It wasn't unlike her place back when she was living here in LA on her own, small but effective. It had the essentials. Small kitchen (which he probably didn't use), fridge, table to eat on, couch and TV, bathroom and bed. She was about to go and clean up the mess in the kitchen when she was suddenly hit with the weight of the past 24 hours. Her body was used to the lack of sleep, god knows that back in the day there were days she'd go running on a few blinks of shut eye here and there and copious amounts of caffeine. The first couple months after moving to Rome had been the worst for her. The jet lag, not to mention her mind continually bringing up memories of the past, the memories of watching him die, over and over again made it difficult to sleep the first week or so. After a few months it got better, but she never got over it and she still saw him both in pleasurable dreams and terrifying nightmares. A good night's sleep came so rare to her.

The hour that she had slept by his side at the hospital had been the first time in six months that she'd slept soundlessly, and of course Angel had to wake her up. She gripped the handle of her rather large suitcase and wheeled it against a wall and out of the way. Then she made her way over to his bed. It was small. Much smaller than the California king sized bed she was used to seeing in his crypt. Hell, it was smaller than the bed she had back at the Revello. It didn't seem Spike-like in the slightest. She knew that he was capable of falling asleep on almost any surface, being dead while sleeping gave them that advantage, but she knew Spike liked preferred the finer things in life when it came to where he was resting.

“Guess you weren't expecting anyone” She mumbled to herself, a faint grin on her lips. She was relieved. She hadn't wanted to think of the possibility that he might not be so unattached. The thought seemed so foreign because for so long he was so obsessed with winning her over, gaining her trust and proclaiming his love. But she was disgusted with herself, so thoroughly unable to show herself any appreciation or self-care that all of his attempts to court her, even the ones that weren't so insane, wouldn't have mattered. How could she possibly love someone like him when she couldn't love herself?

She wished now that it hadn't taken her as long for her to realize that she was indeed capable of love. Maybe then, it wouldn't have happened. But it had taken yet another apocalypse for her to realize this truth. Dawn had made her realize that she no longer wanted to go back to Heaven and that wanted to be alive. She realized that she wanted to be alive and see Dawn experience the world. She loved her sister. She loved her friends. Was is so far off the reservation that she could love in a romantic way? The answer was no. And though at the time she wasn't ready to take the icy plunge, she was certainly ready to get her feet wet. Too bad the one person she wanted to try it with had ran off. And he'd done so to get his soul back, to prove that he could be a better man for her. But he hadn't needed to. Looking back now, Spike was already a better man long before she'd finally realized it. He'd tried his best to show it to her by doing things like trying to fit in with the Scoobies, watching Dawn for the night rather than going out drinking and offering to take her patrol for the night so she could spend it with her mom.

She never truly blamed Spike for what happened. She wouldn't lie and tell herself that what he did was okay, because it most certainly was not. She had been terrified for weeks after the event, afraid to be alone in that bathroom, even considering therapy. But on the other side of the coin, what she had done to him in turn wasn't exactly humane either. She'd hurt him, abused him, pushed him over the edge, all but destroyed him and the self-control he'd managed to show her over the years. It was a wonder that he hadn't snapped sooner. It was completely unnatural for a vampire, especially one as old and powerful as himself, to want a Slayer, let alone fall in love with one. He'd gone against his very nature and tried to exist in the light with her. And when that didn't work, he'd tried to drag her down into the dark with him. He'd done anything and everything to try and prove to her that he was capable of loving her the way she needed to be.

But nothing he did could have changed her mind back then. She was so fixated on the fact that he did not have a soul, therefore he was evil. It didn't matter if she thought she might have feelings for him and that she was insanely attracted to him. In her eyes, it went against everything she was, and so she turned him away. And by doing so, she broke him. After hearing about his past, she realized that Spike had never been alone, not really. Since the day Drusilla sired him, he'd been by her side and with the rest of the Whirlwind. For over one hundred years, Spike had something of a family with Darla, Angel and Drusilla. He never talked about Darla much, and she very much knew his standing and feelings for Angel, but he had the love of Drusilla for over a century. And then all of it was gone. Darla was dusted, Angel fled, and Drusilla left him because he'd wanted to do the right thing and not let the world end. Not to mention he'd fallen in love with her but again, it most certainly was not love in her eyes at that point.

Once upon a time, she wouldn't have believed that a vampire, even one as rebellious in nature as Spike, could feel the depth of emotion that came with love and loss. She couldn't understand it. How a creature with no soul, no conscience, not even a person in her eyes, could give so much of himself to a partner - who may or may not have truly loved him back- and yet all of the souled up boys she had the displeasure of going out with throughout her god awful spree of 'dating' couldn't manage the same amount of passion and devotion that he could. And when Drusilla was gone, left him for some slimy demon in South America because he wanted to 'play in the sunshine’, he was alone. Truly alone. She wouldn't have believed before that it didn't matter to a vampire if they were unattached. That they didn't feel despair at the loss of their nest mates and that all vamps were lone wolves, loyal only to themselves. But that wasn't true was it? Spike had tried to prove to her that there was a deep connection between family. That the bond between a vamp and their sire was a covalent bond, stronger than anything else in nature and just as chemical. And to prove he loved her, he'd do what was impossible, break that bond.

At the time she couldn't get past being clapped in chains (definitely not one of his better ideas) and the fact that Drusilla was back in town, once again spilling innocent blood. She'd thought that even though Spike had been chipped by this point and physically unable to assist his former lover in the carnage, that he was up to no good again. Because even though he was different and had done his best to try and fit in and tried to prove to her a vampire was only what he was, not who he was.

And then there was the chip. A tiny piece of new age technology made up of plastic and electronic circuits, less than the size of a stamp that brought William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers, Master Vampire to his knees. A master vampire, once a vicious, proud killer now forced to beg for help, for food, for solace among his enemies. Once, death threats had dripped off his silver tongue like honey, managing to spark a flame of fear within her belly. Now the death threats still came, but as a form of self-defense, a way to protect himself against the verbal abuse thrown at him as he was tied up like an animal within the house of a group of human co-eds and an aged former Watcher. She didn't care back then how red rimmed and sunken in his eyes were or that he looked as though he hadn't eaten in weeks. Or that his muscles, lean, sculpted, deadly and gorgeous had significantly diminished in their size and tone. She didn't care that they were starving him, because he fed on blood and it only proved that he was nothing more than a monster. Now she could only wallow in the regret she felt in how she had treated him.

Through a combination of his refusal to leave Sunnydale because he was 'in love' with her and her need to watch him in fear that he would somehow start killing again she had forced the bleached vampire to straddle both worlds. The world of demons which he was a part of because of his vampiric nature and the Scoobies (and humanity in general) that he was so vehemently against being a part of. Unfortunately for him, he could be a part of neither world. The demon world had shunned him, laughed in his face because he was palling around with the Slayer and her group of white hats who thought of him as nothing but an impotent pet. The Big Bad had been reduced to nothing. And she and the Scoobies hadn't let him be a part of their world either as much as he had tried. An outsider among a group formed by outsiders.

She trailed a hand down the sheets of the bed, half made up when he'd woken for the night and contemplated pulling back the covers and crawling underneath his sheets. The only night they'd shared a bed in a true sense was that night before the final battle. Curled up in each other's arms, finding one small bit of comfort as the foreboding sense of uncertainty loomed over their heads. That physical closeness, without the added awkwardness of sex that she often associated with him in the times before, had been the most sincere and intimate moment she had spent with him. She remembered the intense feelings of peace and reassurance she felt as she watched him, face soft with contentment, those piercing cobalt eyes watching her with a combination of disbelief and what she finally realized was love. He never made a move to initiate anything, he simply indulged in what he was given, the chance to have a place at her side.

With a smile, she made her decision and drew back the covers. There was a faint nagging in the back of her head that told her she was overstepping her boundaries. It told her that she shouldn't strip down to her undergarments and climb into his bed because she was assuming too much, counting on the fact that since there had once been sexual intimacy with him and that there would be again. Not to mention that maybe he wouldn't come back here alone, whether it be work or pleasure. But for once in her life she was going to be selfish, channeling her inner Faith and her motto of 'want, take, have.' She needed this, needed him.

So, she stripped. It left her in a navy camisole that provided enough support for her barely there breasts without having to wear a bra and the same lace navy panties she was wearing last night, too swept up in all the hullabaloo to find time or energy to change. She slid in underneath the covers, found them to be cotton, not silk like she would have thought. She didn't slide all the way under yet though. Before she did, she leaned over to the table on the right and one by one, pulled out the different vinyl discs. Spike's taste in music reflected his rebellious nature. She knew that he favored the loud and thrashing, high energy types of music that spoke of revolution and that said, 'fuck the man', but she had never personally listened to them. It wasn't that they were an automatic no because of what they were, it was because Spike liked them, and she didn't want to have anything to connect them.

But now, maybe it was a way to get closer to him. To understand him better. So, she drew a few out and placed them in front of her.

“The Sex Pistols” She muttered to herself. She'd heard him talk of them before, see the album Never Mind the Bollocks in his crypt. There was no mistaking that cover. “The Clash, The Ramones. Do all British punk bands have to start with The?” She exclaimed to herself. “Dead Kennedy's, The Misfits, Morrissey, The Smiths, Subhumans”

She continued to read them all out, fanning them out in front of her. She'd only heard him mention some of these names. She scoffed. The Ramones particularly stood out because of his lame attempt at a date with the whiskey and singing and asking if she liked them. So, she wasn't feel so up to them at the moment. She resolved to make her decision then by the cover art. After much debating, she chose a Morrissey record titled Beethoven was Deaf. The cover image was striking to her. With the deep shadowing of the face and eyes of the man she could only assume was Morrissey himself and the gesture he was making with this tongue, it looked exactly like Spike back when he had rolled into Sunnydale circa 1997. It was shocking but almost comforting how much it reminded her of him. She scooped up the rest of them and placed them back within the dividers and set up the chosen disk.

Once it started to play, she realized she'd left the light on of the apartment. Reluctantly, she removed herself from the bed, and headed towards the switch. Not wanting to be without the warmth of the sheets and blanket for long she raced across the floor and tapped the switch down, obscuring the room in pitch black darkness. She padded back to the bed, climbing in it and under the covers, settling down against his pillows. She was instantly comforted by the concentrated smell of Spike. The familiar combination of smoke and leather along with natural earthy scent of his body and the slightly fruity smell of the hair gel he used to tame down all those soft platinum curls. They say scent is the strongest sense tied to memory and laying here against his pillows and inhaling his scent as if it was the oxygen, she needed to stay alive had her a full believer. It took her back to all the memories, the bad, the ugly, but also the good. She remembered the night after he'd gotten through telling his story, how he'd come to earn his title as Slayer of Slayers. How after she'd belittled him, shoved him to the ground in disgust, let him know that he was beneath her and given him every reason to hate her, he was still there for her. Sitting there on her back porch, for once not saying a goddamn word and just offering a bit of silent comfort.

Next it was the memory of the evening of their showdown with Glory in her home. The day she'd realized that after everything she'd done to him, all the nasty things she spat in his face and given him every reason to rat her and her sister out to save his own hide, he protected their secret. He risked his own life, suffered through unimaginable torture at the hands of an over dramatic and power-hungry hell god to safeguard Dawn. She vividly remembered his face, beaten and broken, eye swollen shut reminding her just what he'd gone through and she could still hear the words he muttered.

“Cause Buffy...the other, not so pleasant Buffy...anything happened to Dawn, it'd destroy her. I couldn't live, her bein' in that much pain. Let Glory kill me first. Nearly bloody did”

She remembered the feel of his chapped but still somehow soft lips and faintly tasted the metallic tang of blood. His returned kiss, chaste and tender had the ice around her heart melting just a little bit. The look in his one good eye, the look of shock and wonder across his battered face, beaten to hell and half unrecognizable, followed by that puzzled head tilt, he was just as expressive. The softness of his feature though, were what threw her off.

Her thoughts drifted away from memories to focus on the music surrounding her. The rich tenor of his voice flowing freely in the darkness around her. It wasn't what she was expecting at all, most of the songs she'd heard this far were smooth ballads that were slowly but surely putting her to sleep. She had been expecting loud thrashing noises and driving guitars. Instead she got a melodious English voice that reminded her of a mixture of Giles and Spike's accents.

Her brain wasn't working enough to try and discern lyrics, she just laid there, comforted by the scent of her English vampire while listening to an English singer. At some point, when she was starting to drift in and out of conciseness, a song came on that she found she particularly liked.

Crash into my arms. I want you. You don't agree. But you don't refuse. I know you.

The lyrics eerily reminded her of her old relationship with Spike. But Morrissey's mellow voice made the lyrics seem more sensual, less aggressive and wrapped around her like an extra layer of warmth lulling her to sleep. It was hard keeping her eyes open now. Weary from the day, from the lack of sleep and entranced by the sonorous voice surrounding her she inhaled deeply and for the first time in a long time, wasn't worried there would be nightmare tonight.

~

He could tell he was finally awake now, and not bloody dreaming still when he could feel the pain coming from his forearms. Whatever the hell the doc had pumped him full of was starting to finally wear off. He moved to sit up, barely managing it because it seemed his brain and limbs still weren't working together quite yet after coming out of the medically induced coma they'd put him in. He cracked an eye, pleased that the room was without windows or light.  
He couldn't remember much. He knew he was fighting with the psycho slayer, finally tracked her down to that sickly-sweet smelling room and thought he'd gotten the upper hand. Course he was wrong about that. The bint had led him into a trap, clearly knowing the area and working it to her advantage. He was right brassed about letting himself get taken down like that, not entertaining the thought that the girl had a plan. A plan which, involved getting stabbed, drugged up and partially dismembered. Gods that had hurt. He could vaguely recall the pain, most of it was masked by whatever drugs she'd loaded his undead veins up with, but he remembered it was a right bitch.

After that everything was hazy. The unfortunate side effects of having a vampire's constitution was that he wasn't completely unconscious for any of what happened that night. He remembered feeling fuzzy, the dull aching phantom pain that came with the loss of his limbs and the how exhausted he felt, his vampiric abilities attempting to heal the amputation. But as great of healing his body was capable of, it couldn't regrow its own limbs. Lucky for him, it seemed someone came around quick enough to find his hands and have them reattached. He didn't know what he'd do without them. Guess he owed someone else another bloody thank you. He was getting awful tired of this owing a debt to someone.

He knew his senses were still muddled because for the life of him he couldn't smell anything but the overwhelming stench of disinfectant and hospital smell. Gods what he'd give to get out of this place right this minute, and for a fag. Somehow, he didn't think he'd be getting either of those things soon. He craned his head to the left a bit, finding it particularly difficult to move his head much and saw the slow IV drip next to him, attached to the inside of his elbow. Whatever they had him on was still bloody going. If only he had the strength to move his hand or even a bleedin finger. He gave up eventually, knowing he was only expending more valuable energy and returned his head to its previous position. He had no idea what day it was or what time. His internal clock seemed to be shot at the moment. As much as he wanted to get out of this place, he knew he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. So he did the only thing he could, he forced himself back asleep.

~

When he awoke again, he mostly felt like himself. He had no idea how much time had passed, but he could at least feel the pull of the sun now. Night had fallen. There was no sensation within him that screamed out that he'd burst into flames if he walked outside. Perfect He thought to himself Time to get the bloody hell out of here. He then also noticed the ease at which he was able to start moving. He could feel his limbs all the way down to his extremities. He gave his fingers and toes a flex and found that he could move them all without issue. And it seemed to that his cock was all on board with being part of the wake-up party because he found himself uncomfortably hard beneath the hospital gown. Seems everything was in working order then. So once again, he gave it a go to sit up. And this time he had no problem.

He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck and stretched out his back, stiff from laying in what he presumed was the same position for as long as he'd been here. It felt good to be able to move again. His muscles protested at moving too much too fast, but he was sick of this place and wanted to get out as soon as possible. He ran his fingers through his completely untamed hair, growling that all of his poncy curls had come loose. As he attempted to squash them back down into place he took in his surroundings, now that his vision wasn't so blurry. It looked like any hospital room, complete with medical equipment, hospital smell and white walls and floors and sheets that were starting to drive him barmy. At least there was a telly. But as he looked around the room, he knew that there was something off about it. Something different. His senses must still be dulled because he was still having difficulty picking up smells. He couldn't hear any heartbeats anywhere near him, although he figured that had something to do with where he was in the hospital. Other than the god-awful medical smell that hospitals typically had, the only distinctive smells he could pick out were.... tropical? There were faint hints of orange, mint and mango but he couldn't think of anyone who smelled like those things.

When he went to swing his legs out from under the blankets so he could get dressed and get the fuck out of here, that's when he noticed the strange smears of what appeared to be mascara and eyeliner.  
“What the bloody hell” He spoke to himself and tried to look for any other evidence around the room. There was a bunch of 'Get Well' balloons in the corner...clearly someone had been by. Unless the hospital did a piss poor job at cleaning their sheets, which wasn't totally out of left field but unlikely, then someone had been in his room visiting and had been weeping enough to leave stains. So who? Could have been either Harm or Fred. They were the only two women in this godforsaken city that even cared a lick about him. Judging by how much was smeared all over the sheets, it had to be Harm. He sneered in revulsion. Of course, she'd be down here, cryin about how her Blondie Bear got his mitts whacked off. Maybe she wanted to give him a pity fuck. Boy was she in for a very rude surprise.

Without any more thoughts to Harmony he turned the blankets away and touched his feet to the ground. God he hated hospitals. Damned good thing about being a vampire. His body was able to take care itself, mend any cut or bruise or shattered bone he'd get in a tussle, and he was in a lot of those. Not once did he even go to one when his back was snapped in half after that organ had fallen on him. He'd hope this was the last time he would ever be here. He saw his folded clothes sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, his duster hanging from the back of said chair. Right. Time to scram.

As he moved to get up, he heard the click of the room door and groaned dramatically.  
“What the bloody hell are you doing here you git?” He growled

Angel stepped into the room, looking over the younger blonde vampire with a mocking look in his eyes. Clearly enjoying seeing him in a weakened state.

“That gown looks good. Mint green's a good color for you” He joked

“Shut your gob Peaches” Just for that he immediately stripped himself of the gown, baring himself shamelessly and grinned as Angel rolled his eyes

“Do you have to do that?” His jaw ticking

Spike curled his tongue behind his teeth and cocked his head. “Dunno what your talkin about. You’re the one bargin into my room while I'm starkers”

“You could at least be a little modest about it”

“The day I'm modest is the day I got nothing left to show off. And since that is never 'appening, well then you just have' ta deal with my hot, tight little body” He grinned wickly, flashing teeth and chuckling when Angel and turned away completely.

“Not like you haven't seen the goods before” He followed up, doing anything he could to bury Angel more under his embarrassment. “As I recall. It used to be quite a lot. You remember that week we spent in St. Petersburg?”  
“I'm doing my best to forget. You should too”

Rather than continue the argument, Spike just smirked behind his back, loving the way he got under his grandsire's skin and dressed quickly. He slid the duster on and with a fluid motion, dipped into the pockets pulled his cigs and lighter out and had one to his lips and ready to light before it was swatted to the ground. He flashed an annoyed glance at Angel and bent down to pick it up.

“You can't light that here. Were in a hospital”

“Yes, because this floor clearly has a ton of occupants whose lung still work” Sticking the fag between his lips again and Angel swatted it away again.

“Bleedin hell. Stop it you prat!” Reaching to get it again but watched in horror as Angel crushed it.

“You can't smoke here”

“Then lemme outta the room so that I can. I'm healed up fine anyways. Good as new” He proclaimed with an exasperated tone

“You should stay. You've only been out for a little under forty-eight hours”

“Two days in plenty of time” He waved his clearly working hands in front of his face. Ending with a flashy show of giving him a two-finger salute. “Now lemme out”

“Spike...” He sighed still clearly blocking his path.

Spike found the whole situation extremely odd. Normally the great sod would want him out of his greasy gelled poofy hair and halfway across the planet if he'd asked. He knew Angel wasn't concerned for him. He was aware of the quick healing nature of their kind and although his injury had been severe at first, what with the loss of limbs and all, but once his hands had been attached, they wouldn't take long to heal. Especially since they'd kept him from moving for so long. But he was bored now. His energy pent up and he needed to go out and pummel something into the pavement to work it off. He was feeling a bit peckish too.

“Maybe you should stay for a little longer. Make sure that everything's okay” Angel insisted

Spike scoffed. “I think I know my body pretty well mate. Feel good as new. No need for concern. I'll be back at the office tomorrow” He stuck his hands back in his pockets. “What happened to the Slayer?” He asked after an extended uncomfortable silence between the two.

Almost immediately, he could see Angel relax at the change in topic but there was still a visible scowl on his face. “Andrew took her. Him and a bunch of Slayers”

“Andrew double crossed us? That's a good move” And he chuckled at that. After all that male bonding they'd done too. “Guess there's hope for the little ponce yet. Though the faint tingling in my forearms tells me she's too far gone to help” He grimaced “She's one of us now. A monster”

“She's an innocent victim. Andrew said their gonna take her back to Rome, get her medical attention, psychoanalyze her, get her stable. If she gets through that, Buffy will be training her personally”

“Yeah...she would be the best fit for the job eh?” Thinking fondly of the deadly little blonde. Dana had some raw talent. If they could get her noggin all back in order, the Slayer would be the best to draw out that ability and focus it.

“Andrew used her as a trump card” Angel spoke firmly but with a disgust lacing his voice. “Wolfram and Hart was ready to take her in but...”

“Because the girl's a Slayer they wouldn't let you. That it innit?” He questioned

“Yeah...and Buffy doesn't trust me” He sighed dejectedly.

“Well you can't blame her, can you? Wolfram and Hart's not known for doling out sunshine and puppy dogs’ mate. Just cause you’re the head honcho now doesn't mean the reputation of the soddin company has changed. She probably thinks they're just controlling your noggin and go all.... well...you know” He puttered off. He was conflicted. On the one hand he was ecstatic that Buffy didn't trust Angel. His sire had always had the sway of the girl's affection, no matter what the git managed to do. Knowing that she thought less of her perfect white knight made him tingle in all the right places. But on the other hand?...

“If it makes you feel any better mate...Buffy doesn't trust me either. Not like I've given her reason to. Made a lot of wrong bloody calls” He couldn't help but notice the smug satisfaction that crossed Angel's face. Course the git was still in love with her. How could he not be? Buffy was impossible not to love. Might as well continue with the out pour of emotion. Gods what had he become, spillin to Peaches.

“'Preciate you and yours fixin me up” He finally managed and couldn't dare a glance at the great ponce's face, so he stared at a particularly interesting ceiling tile. “I'd be right buggered without havin hands. Couldn't do any of favorite things”

“Yeah well...despite you being an annoying, cocky, asshole”

“Oi!”

“...You don't deserve that” He unfolded his arms and flexed his fingers slowly, taking a moment to appreciate the use of his limbs. “I know I'd feel like an invalid for the rest of my life. Not being able to pick up a book...”

“Feel the touch of skin” Spike offered

“Take a shot of scotch” Angel smiled

“Wank off” Angel shot him a dirty look and Spike shrugged

They both paused and simultaneously said  
“Punch something!” And chuckled together at that

He looked up at his grandsire and for a few brief seconds, there was a moment where recent events of faded away and they were back to being the male duo of The Whirlwind. Two alpha males bonding over bloodshed, mayhem and the call to the darkness within them. They lived for the night and although there would always be a rivalry, bitter blood brought out usually via Drusilla or in the most recent years Buffy, they would always be family. Spike had told Buffy once that he followed his blood and as much as he hated it a majority of the time, Angel was his blood. He was no longer the man who looked at him as a mentor, a master vampire teaching his fledgling self the way of the vampire, but there were still faint tendrils of familial bond that wove them together.

“Right” He finally broke, clearing his throat and breaking the moment. “Like I said, I'll be back tomorrow. Gonna finish resting in my flat. Have a bite, get some kip. Be right as rain tomorrow”  
And despite all of that, Angel still seemed evasive

“You should really stay here”

Spike cocked his head  
“What aren't you tellin me Peaches?”  
“Nothing” He answered way to quickly and a sly smile slide across Spike's face.

“Oh...I think it's something. Why don't you want me to leave?” He questioned. He stared up into his grandsire's eyes. But as much as he tried to pry something from him, he couldn't see it. His eyes were giving nothing away. The moment from only minutes before was lost. It was back to that stone-cold stare of his.

“I just think you should stay here. Where you can be closely monitored. We can bring the blood to you. Sleep all you want”

“Not bloody likely. I'd rather rest at my own flat, drink my own blood, sleep in my own bed. Gonna show how much I appreciate the fact that I still got hands” He smirked, removing his hands from the duster pockets, shoving them through the belt loops at his hips and framing his groin suggestively. He was expecting the look of disgust. What he didn't understand was the look of pain behind his eyes and the way that his lips fell in a slight frown.

“Your disgusting Spike” He grumbled. Even his voice had taken a depressive tone.

“Play me a different tune. I've heard that one” He retorted. He removed his hands and stuck them back in his duster. “Right. I'm off” And he made to barrel past Angel, shoving his left shoulder into him.

Surprisingly Angel allowed him to shove him, knocking him just enough to the left that Spike could split past him on the right and open the door.

“It's a bad idea. Leaving here”

“I'll be the judge of that. Ta” As he made his way out the door, his poor convoluted nose picked something up. Something he hadn't smell before. As he passed Angel and moved through the doorway, he picked up the very faint smell of vanilla. His thoughts instantly reeled to Buffy and that sugary sweet soap she used on her golden skin. It was there for only a second but smelling it brought a flood of emotion. What if....no..it would never be her. She'd no idea that he was alive. And he wasn't worth troubling one perfect blonde hair on her head. Vanilla was a common smell. Could have been anyone.

And then he was gone. Angel disappeared from his view as he left the godawful hospital room and swaggered down the long hallways of the basement. Luckily, it wouldn't be long before he was back at his flat, chugging down a whiskey, lounging in his bed, making good on his promise to Angel in wanking off. Maybe he'd pull out a record. Nothing like the thrashin of the Pistols to get the motor running. That and the endless footage reel off his gorgeous little Slayer.

His? Christ, he had no reason to go and say that. He knew as well as the next guy that Buffy could never belong to anyone. She was much too strong for that. Even if the notion made his stomach feel like it'd been pulled from his gut and thrown to the floor.  
And even if she wasn't. You know it wouldn't be you stupid git. She told you herself  
That had been a long time ago of course, things had changed since then. And yeah, they had gotten...downright awful before they had gotten better, he knew that now, but he would have liked to think those last few weeks he got to spend with her meant more than the rest of his whole soddin life combined. And he'd had some really sweet days.

As soon as he'd made it out of the hospital, he pulled a fag from the carton and lit up. He inhaled the smoke deeply, nicotine filling his dead lungs and the relief he got was instantaneous. Thankfully being a vampire didn't destroy his human body's ability to process nicotine, alcohol, Maryjane or any other chemical pleasure. It did make it difficult to feel anything from them though, vamp constitution was a right bitch.

With that he made off for his flat. As much he detested the antiseptic smell of the hospital, it was almost a relief compared to the shite smell of the city. It seemed that all his nose needed was a kick from the real world to get it back in full working order. In an overwhelming rush, the vile cocktail of city filth invaded his nostrils. The stench of dirt, shit, piss and humans with a serious lack in hygiene hadn't changed much over time. Which was a bloody awful thought considering how far modern technology had advanced. I mean really? Tiny phones that fit in your pocket! Who knew? But some things never changed.

Namely and most importantly, not paying for a bleedin thing if he didn't have to. On his way back he'd knick a bottle or two of whiskey and a pack of smokes and be on his merry way. He may be a white hat now and have a conscience to boot, but it didn't make him any less of the rebellious punk he was on the inside. He was still a demon, though it seemed that most people forgot that. Unlucky for them, he'd use that as an advantage. He settled into a fast pace, determined to get home before he was called into action by some stupid blighter who thought it a right idea to wander LA's alley's at night.

~

He knew something was off as soon as he got within a dozen or so feet of his flat. He didn't know if it was a combination of his recovering sense of smell (though he was sure it was up to snuff now) or his recent exposure to some seriously powerful drugs (and not the good kind) or some arsehole was trying to pull a fast one on him, but as soon as he got close, he smelled it again. That faint whiff of Vanilla. A smell so sweet, faint but powerful even among the smell of rot of the city. And he got the citrus again too. The same combination of smells from the hospital. And it was strange because it was a mixture of something old and something new. Had Harm come by here to bother him so soon after being released? But it still didn't make sense. The timing was a bit off. He'd only just left not but a half hour ago. Word traveled fast around Wolfram and Hart, but he didn't think Peaches would have let the entire staff know immediately. Especially considering the bloke was acting odder than usual when it came to his release.  
And then the realization dawned on him. Maybe the dozy bint was still here. Took it upon herself to wait for him here when she was done waiting at the hospital. And like the stupid blighter he was in leaving his door unlocked, she'd just waltzed right in. Pity that invitations didn't work the same for other vampires. He growled at the thought. As much as he was in the mood for a good shag, he'd told himself he was done with her.

He pushed his way in, not bothering to flick on the light and just as the name of the bitch rose to his lips, the words died in his throat.  
“Buffy...” Her name falling from his lips in reverence. The bottle of whiskey he was carrying dropped to the ground and he didn't give it a second thought. Matter of fact, there were no thoughts to be had. It was like his brain had shut down on him. It had gone blank and white and all he could do was stare at the lump that was The Slayer in his bed. He was completely and utterly gobsmacked. He couldn't believe it, and even without fully seeing her there was no mistaking it was her. Now, where her scent was concentrated rather than particles in the wind, he recognized the familiar smell of sweet vanilla of course, but there was the orange and mango which were so very new to him. So, it was her...at the hospital. Not Fred. Not Harm. She'd been there, come to see him. Were those her makeup smears across his sheet? Had she cried for him? He felt a pang of regret in his undead heart. In tandem with her smell he also felt the familiar tingle in his blood the moment he'd stepped through the threshold. There was nothing quite like the feeling he got being around her and it was so distinct from any of the other Slayers. It was strong, powerful and so intense it never failed to always knock him on his arse.

He pinched himself hard on the arm and when he didn't wake back up in the hospital bed, surrounded by a monotonous sea of white he knew he wasn't dreaming. She was here. Somehow here, in America, in LA, in his shitty flat, sleeping in his bed. He had so many questions. Why was she here? Now? How had she found out? Why wasn't she pummeling him to the ground with a bit of sharpened wood to his heart? Somewhere in the time span of him leaving the flat two nights ago going after Dana and the current present, Buffy had slipped back into his life without so much as a word. And then something became clear within his utterly cross wired mind. This was why Angel was so insistent that he stayed at the hospital. He knew. The bloody pillock had known that she was here, not just in LA, but right here in his flat waiting for him, currently wrapped up in a fluffy Slayer burrito. And he was trying to stop him from seeing her. 

And that knowledge infuriated him. Soddin Peaches, always trying to bugger things up. He'd wanted him to stay trapped in that godforsaken room, waiting around like a bloody idiot until she decided that she'd up and had enough having been stood up after half a day's flight and head right back without a word. Oh the gloves were off next time he saw that tosser. He was gonna beat him bloody into the next century. He'd stake the bastard if he knew it wouldn't hurt Buffy's feelings. Though he feared even that wouldn't hold him back. He could feel the demon stir within him, threatening to rip apart the man who threatened to keep his mate away, consequences be damned.

But no. He was not her mate. He wanted to be, bloody more than anything in his whole existence did he want to be able to claim that she was his. But she could not be claimed. His inferno of a Slayer had a will stronger than the best man-made steel, wild as a free spirited Mustang stallion and just as mad. And yet here she was after all this time, curled beneath his covers, heartbeat slow and strong in sleep. It was mesmerizing watching her sleep. And he was taken back to those blissful moments, spent curled around each other in that abandoned house. But as much as he wanted to dwell on those sweet memories, doubt reared its ugly head.

What was she doing here? Was it possible that she'd known all along that he was alive? Oh gods, what if she knew all this time. Known that while she was off in Rome somewhere fightin baddies and playing big sister that he was here gallivanting around with her tosser of an ex without so much as a phone call. Another deep pain constricted his chest. What if she was so brassed with him that she'd come all this way in person to tell him off, that she never wanted him in her life again. It'd be more than he could bear to hear those words fall from her lips, especially after the last words he'd heard from them were the one's he'd longed to hear the most. I love you. A tremor of regret shook him. He remembered those moments exactly. The exact way she spoke, the way she trembled and breathed the words...like...they'd taken away her very breath, like she'd meant them. And now thinking back on that day, how could he have done that to her? Left her with the memory of not believing her, even though it was what she needed to hear.

He'd been a coward instead. Rather than call her up, let the woman he loved know that he was alive and well, hopefully return to her loving arms, he hid in the shadows of LA, still pretending that he was dead. Still hiding behind the image of the hero that she remembered he was so that he didn't have feel her disappointment in him when he'd returned from the dead only nineteen days later. But maybe she'd gotten fed up with his hiding. Maybe she'd been cavorting with Angel this whole time and both of em had decided to keep William the Bloody Pathetic out of the loop. He hadn't failed to notice that among the sweet smells that made up the perfume that was Buffy was the faint musk of sex. Perhaps she'd been in town longer than just a night or two, secretly meeting with her ex... or maybe not ex. And if that's what was going on this whole time, well he bloody well deserved it.

But something was off about that. For one, he hadn't smelled Buffy on the great ponce at the hospital, although he guessed that couldn't be considered anyways because his sense of smell at the hospital was clearly buggered. And two? Angel had clearly not wanted him to come into contact with her once he'd found out she'd come here. Which meant that Buffy had come here without his knowledge and Angel, not wanting his longtime rival to receive attention from the blonde beauty that he too was courting, tried to keep him from it because he knew Buffy wasn't here for him. Which meant...? Was she here for him for a different reason? The idea instilled both fear and wonder, both equally strong and threatening to tear him apart. He couldn't keep asking himself what the bloody hell she was doing here.

As much as he hated it, he supposed he would just have to ask her when she woke up. Patience was not his strong suit, as Buffy loved to throw in his face. Case in point the Night of Saint Vigeous. Couldn't wait two more days to have the chance to take her on. Who knew it took falling in love with her to change that about himself? Because when it came to her, he would wait another century. And it seemed he would have to do a bit more waiting. It was clear that she was so out of it that even the presence of a master vampire within only a few feet of her was not enough to rouse her from her heavy sleep. Lucky for her, he meant her no harm.  
Poor thing must be exhausted. Travelin all that way, having to deal with Angel. No wonder she's so knackered.

So in the meantime he made himself comfortable. He picked his whiskey up off the floor, thankful to whatever powers that were that the bottle hadn't smashed against the floor when he'd dropped it. Being liquored up once she woke up definitely wouldn't hurt. He made his way over to his little table dropping himself into one of the chairs with an exhaustion of his own that he hadn't known was there. Suppose it had only been two days since he'd had his arms cut off. He swung the chair round so that he was parallel to the table and facing Buffy, cracked open the bottle of Lagavulin and took a deep swig all in one motion.

Once he sat down however, he noticed that his vinyl player by the side of his bed was twirlin round. He knew for a fact that he hadn't left the thing on before he'd left, which meant that she'd done it herself. He smiled to himself, set the whiskey on the table and made to go and turn the thing off. He was pleasantly surprised when he found she'd chosen Morrissey. Compared to the other records she could have picked from; he was the most mellow. More depressing too if you really listened to his lyrics, but he couldn't imagine her listening all that much. He always enjoyed Morrissey for the way he described relationships as anything but happy. It was honest and real, and he felt akin to it, seeing as how his relationships were never truly what he wanted. That and he fully embodied the spirit of punk music by writing about everything and anything that went against what was considered the norm of English society. The church, education systems, the royal bloody family and sex, all subjects that many English were very much hush hush about, but Morrissey wasn't afraid to bring up.  
Good on you pet, a gift to music that man is, bet he put you right to sleep with that rich voice of his eh? God knows he's done the same for me plenty of times.

He pulled the needle off the record but made no move to remove it.  
A quick glance over and he was looking upon her gorgeous face. She was curled on her side with one hand curled under her face. He smiled fondly, desperate to reach out and touch her but reigned in his desire as to not wake her. She was sleeping so soundly. Eyes closed in a fit less slumber, a faint smile upon her lips. Christ he'd never get over how soft she looked in her sleep compared to the deadly little thing she was when she was awake. In her sleep, she didn't look like the woman with the weight of the world on her shoulders, just a girl. No more than even a quarter of a century old, barely one fifth of his current age and yet she'd had to deal with more in her life than any other girl of a similar age. But that strength is what drew him to her, both parts of him. The man craved the woman and all the pleasures she provided and the light she exuded. The demon craved the anger, the death she doled out, the darkness within her. Both two sides of the same coin.

He left her to sleep and decided before he sat back down, best to get a bit of blood in him before she woke. While it was heating up, a curious thought crossed his mind. If she'd really come here to see him and she hadn't known that he was alive, what changed? What course of events had caused her to hop a plane and make for the City of Angels? It wasn't Angel, but he wasn't sure if she even had any other contacts within the city. All her friends had lived in good ole Sunnydale. When he looked at it that way.... The answer came to him as he brought the mug of hot blood to his lips and took the first sip and he nearly choked on it.  
Andrew. The little ponce. Of course. All made sense now. He'd double crossed them in more ways than once it seemed. After he specifically told the boy he would take care of contacting Buffy again, he'd gone against his wishes. Sly little bastard. Oh, the next time he saw him he was gonna rip the boy a new one, and not the way he wanted him to.

Yet despite his current ire for the boy and his treachery, he couldn't help but feel grateful. It made him feel more like a coward, knowing he hadn't been the one to contact her himself, but he couldn't help but feel there was a weight that had been lifted off his ancient shoulders. One that had dragged him down for the past six months. And now she was here, sleeping soundly while he watched over. He prayed that this all wasn't some sick joke. That he wasn't trapped in some hell dimension or infinite loop as a result of his run in with the psycho Slayer or some other fucked up scenario by the PTB. He hoped that if there was a benevolent god out there, that for once in his entire unholy life, they were looking out for him. And then he waited. He took another hard douse of the whiskey, hoping it would help to quell this full body anxiety that he wasn't used to having, and he waited.

~  
She wasn't sure how long it had been since she'd fallen asleep. As she started to stir, she couldn't help but feel more rested and relaxed than she had in....god...months. It was the kind of sleep that even though she needed it and had probably been out for a good twelve hours or more, she was now groggy from too much. Her body wasn't used to this, usually running on just a few hours before someone woke her, or she was torn violently from her nightmare of fire and death. But her muscles were relaxed, her head felt clear and she felt the deep tingling down her spine. Wait....what? Eyes wide, very much awake, she flung back the covers, sat straight up and immediately locked eyes with the vampire she'd traveled across the ocean for. The man that, up until about thirty-six hours ago, she thought was dead. But here he was, only feet away from her, lounging back in a chair, staring her down with those hauntingly beautiful blue eyes.

“Spike...” She breathed and all the air from her lungs was suddenly gone. He looked equally stunned, staring at her like he'd seen a ghost and remained inhumanly still. She felt her eyes go wet and couldn't stop the tears from coming. She knew that in the back of her mind her makeup was going to run and mentally slapped herself for the ugly crying she was on the verge of but wouldn't stop herself from baring this to him.

“Come here” She whispered opening her arms to him. Just seeing him sitting there wasn't enough. After thinking he was dust for so long, she had to touch him, had to feel that he was solid against her. And he wasted no time in making his way over to her. With inhuman fluidity he was up from his seat and sitting on the edge of the bed within seconds. But once he got there, she watched as his movements became slow and tentative. “Please” She added on after he made no attempt to move further.

His actions reminded her of a wounded animal. Afraid that after the offer of food was made, there was a beating that soon followed. And she had done that to him. Her open arms came down and she used her right hand to brush away some of the tears that forced their way out already. So many times she had offered him her body but not for his own benefit. Called upon him, played with the emotions that she didn't believe that he had, used him to achieve the most mind-numbing orgasms for herself. And during those times she made sure that the intimate contact was as little as possible. Other than that first time, she'd never allowed him to kiss her because he didn't deserve it, rarely let him near her neck because she didn't trust him and didn't let allow him to lay beside he when they were done because he wasn't good enough. She did this to him time and time again and he wouldn't say no to her.

She did not fault him for being cautious over her. She couldn't think of one single time that she had ever offered him something simple as a hug. She would have never allowed it before he returned with his soul, and after he had, it seemed that he lost more than just his mind. He didn't have much of the same personality after he came back. Oh she knew he was still Spike in there, but much of what made up the vampire she knew him to be was gone. There were no insults, no innuendos, no cocky attitude, hell he barely even smoked.

“Please” She whispered again “I need to know your real” Her tiny hands folded in her sheet covered lap.

And after a long period of silence where he just stared back at her, eyes still wide in disbelief and maybe even a little glossy themselves, he finally broke the silence

“Very much real pet” He whispered in response to her.

And she broke. The damn of tears was set loose and before she could draw him in, she held her head in her hands as the body shaking sobs wracked her body. Six months ago she left her best friend alone so he could save the world and burn to ash in the process. She had never stopped mourning him once these past six months, even after everyone else had forgotten. The despair that she felt from his loss was overwhelming, heartbreaking, and she was lonelier than she had ever felt in her life. It ate away at her until there was nothing left. Those first few nights she didn't sleep a second and she remembered that she cried so much that she couldn't stop throwing up. Food, water and other physical necessities were cast aside and forgotten. There was a void within her heart that she couldn't fill, no matter what she did. She'd tried to patch her broken heart. Tried being Sister Buffy, something she'd neglected for so long. Reconnecting with Dawn had made her a little happier and filled part of that void with purpose again, she was so grateful to her sister, who she knew was suffering from his loss too but was being stronger about it then her. She had tried dating again so that she could move on like everyone said she should too. But nothing was enough.

After a few moments of bawling her eyes out, she felt the bed shift as he scooted closer to her. He awkwardly pulled her trembling figure to him, her body leaning against his right shoulder for support as he wrapped his right arm around her waist in a one-armed embrace. She cried into his shoulder. He was here. He was really here. She felt the heaviness of the limb wrapped tightly around her waist, felt the solid muscle of his shoulder against her forehead, and breathed in the achingly familiar aroma of Spike. Leather and cigarettes, earth and iron. She inhaled deeply of him and burst into a fresh round of tears. Alive. He was alive.

“Easy now pet” She heard him whisper. “No more cryin. Can't bear to see you cry anymore” His voice cracking. She didn't want to cry anymore either dammit! She was tired of crying. But couldn't he hear that mixed in with all these ugly sad tears, she was crying tears of joy. She was not weeping in loss but celebrating life. His life. To just hear his voice again, deep and rumbling in that Cockney British accent of his made the aching pain that used to be in her heart fade away.  
“‘M here luv, 'M here” And after being in silence for long, his words were a tiny spool and thread, weaving their way across her ripped and ragged heart, sowing it back together again.

Her tears finally slowed, wracking sobs replaced by soft sniveling and little hiccups and she finally had the strength to raise her head and look at him without feeling like she'd fall apart again. She blinked away more tears, painfully aware that her face was a mess, swollen and red with cracked lips and a runny nose. But the look on his face showed no hint of revulsion, only awe. She removed herself from him and inelegantly brought his sheets to her face to wipe away the mess. When she was done, she sheepishly set them down and dared to bring her gaze to his again. He had turned shifted and turned to face her better and before she could say anything about her disgusting crying....

“Gods your beautiful” He murmured. Bringing a hand to the side of her face, thumb stroking her reddened cheek.

She snorted at that “Your crazy. I look awful”

“It’s physically impossible for you to be anything but gorgeous. I'd know” He countered, and she felt her cheeks inflame. He sure knew how to lay it on, but it felt so good to hear him say it. She nuzzled into his touch and she didn't miss his hitch of breath.

“You’re really here” She sighed

“I'm really here”

“How are you really here?” She questioned, breathing him in again. His hands smell strongly of smoke and whiskey

He chuckled  
“Really wanna know the answer ta that question right now luv?”

She pulled away from his touch, his hand returning to the bed and she immediately longed for it again. Didn't want to spend any more time where they weren't touching. But she remembered that there was some part of her that was still mad at him.

“Yes....I dunno...” She sighed and then brought her fist to his shoulder in a playful punch.  
“You’re a jerk” She huffed.  
“I'm a bad, rude man” He agreed with a smirk

“I mean it Spike”

“So do I” He leered, tongue curling behind his teeth and she quivered. She'd never been so affected by that gesture. Hadn't allowed herself to before and she wanted to go back in time and slap her younger self around for not realizing how hot it was. But as hot as it was.... she was mad at him right now.

“Stop it” She forced out, trying to direct whatever feelings of longing and lust that were beginning to unfurl again back to anger. “I'm furious with you”

And she watched his face fall from cocky to somber.  
“Of course, you are” He sighed “Every reason to be brassed off at me” He sniffed indifferently. “Right then. Go on luv. Lemme have it. Give it me good” And he offered face to her, particularly putting his nose straight in her line of fire.

Her anger fell away instantly. He thought it was going to go right back to the way things were? Of course he did. This was all he'd ever known from her. Since the beginning of their relationship she followed the same pattern. Find. Interrogate. Fight. Flee. And after their physical relationship had started it fell much into the same pattern of Find. Fight. Fuck. Flee. But she didn't want things to go back to the way they were. They weren't the same people anymore. She wasn't the same.

“No Spike. No more. No more hitting” And when she breathed the words, a sigh of relief followed. It felt good, letting go of the anger. And when she captured his gaze, his look of somber defeat was replaced by confusion but there was a light behind his eyes. A spark of hope.

“Buffy...” His voice barely above a whisper

“I'm done hurting you Spike...I...oh god....I missed you” And she buried her face in her knees, curling in on herself. “I missed you so much” Her voice a whisper and muffled underneath her. She could hear his intake of breath, as though he was going to speak, but she cut him off and raised her head again, resting her chin on her knees.  
“It was so hard without you here with me” Her voice soft and full of pain. “My life has been a wreck, an utter shitshow. I missed you every single day you were gone.”

“Pet I...”

“I'm so proud of you” She told him, feeling a smile come to her face

“You shouldn't be. I was a bloody coward” He snarled and stared down at his lap

“You were a hero” She affirmed “You’re still a hero. My hero” She admitted with a beaming smile. Once again, he looked awestruck.

“Slayer...I don't deserve your praise. It was just a joke. Sure, I saved the world, went out in flames. Burned me straight to the core they did. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust and all that rot. And then wouldn't ya have it. Nineteen days later. Poof! Thrown out of that bloody amulet that your honey bear so graciously seconded handed to yours truly. Bet the git knew it was gonna kill em. Why else hand it off? For months after I popped out, I had to wander around that godforsaken hellhole as a ghostie. Couldn't smoke, couldn't eat, couldn't so much as touch anything without phasing through it. And you want to know the worst part of it? After a couple days of trying, trying to get my body back so that I could just feel again, I didn't care anymore. Because why the fuck should I have? I had nothing. No one”

Nineteen days huh? He was really only been gone for nineteen days and then was back. He may not have been physically back and able to let her know he was alive, but Angel or anyone else at Wolfram and Hart could have let her know that he at least wasn't dust. The thought left her with a bitter taste in her mouth.  
“How long have you been corporeal?” She asked, afraid of the answer

“Four months. Or thereabouts”

“Four months” She repeated. The words feeling wrong on her tongue. “Four months...and you didn't call. Didn't write me a letter. Didn't come for me.”

She felt him flinch against her “I was a bloody coward” He offered “Told you as much”

“Why?” Her voice coming out as a breathless “Why didn't you tell me...?”

He sighed heavily “I thought you'd be happy. Thought that after everything that happened that you were done with this. With me. And me being the spineless prat that I am, thought that it would be best for you if you didn't know. So you didn't have to be in anymore pain. Can't bear to see you in pain”

Her anger flashed through her again and she pushed away from him. Sliding back from him and brought the covers with her.  
“Oh no” She growled “You don't get to do that”

“Luv I...”

“Don't luv me. You don't get to do that. You don't get to tell me what’s best for me”

“Your right pet...”

“No. Let me finish” And he was silent. She breathed out a long hot breath, flushing away some of the anger with it. “You don't get to tell me what’s best for me because that's what everyone else does. Mom. Angel. Giles. Xander. Willow....” She counted off. “All of them have told me what they think is the best for me. You'll feel better after we move, I know it. It's better for both of us if we don't see each other anymore, you’re not using your best judgment, I know what’s best for you, you should be grateful that your alive....” She trailed off. “But you? I would have never expected it from you. You've never once told me something's best for me. You've always let me be my own person, never questioned me or my decisions, never tried to stifle my thoughts, even if some of them are so stupid they're painful. I need that from you. So please...please don't be like them” And her voice trembled under the weight of words.

“Never again pet. Never again” He agreed and moved to embrace her. But she backed away, intending to adjust so that she could embrace him properly, but she saw he took it the wrong way and saw the hurt flash across his eyes before she saw his walls go back up.

“Right. Told you my story. Now you know. Suppose it's time for you to toddle off eh luv?” He started to get up off the bed. No. She couldn't let him walk away now. Not when she was so close. She leaned forward, the covers falling away from her waist, exposing the rest of her body and grasped for his left hand, clutching tightly around his fingers. He snapped around, clearly ready to tell her off when she saw his eyes widen and nostrils flare.

She supposed it wasn't really fair to him, laying in his bed, under his sheets with nothing but thin navy-blue lace fabric to cover herself up. And even though she could still see the defensiveness in his eyes, she didn't fail to notice the look of reverence that bloomed across his face in seeing her now with so little clothing.

“Slayer....” He mumbled “If you think you can change my mind, sleeping in my bed with those tiny togs.... I’m bleedin brassed at you, you infuriating chit. Just cause you go and spill your guts, don't mean things are back to the way they were. I'm done with all that too. Not gonna be your whipping boy anymore Don't wanna be just...convenient...You can't just pump me for information anymore”

A wicked grin graced her face and seconds too late, he seemed to realize his mistake  
“I'd rather pump you for something else” She whispered, turning her old words on him in a new way and felt the first real stirrings of lust and desire within her for nearly six months

“Christ” She heard him moan. She used the hand she was holding onto to pull herself towards him, slipped off the bed and launched herself at him. She wasted no time sliding her hands under his duster and wrapping themselves around his narrow waist, pressing her body flush to his and nuzzling her head against his chest. His response to her was instant, muscled arms wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her closer, his chin resting on top of her head. She couldn't think of a single time that she'd done this, just hugged him, and let herself be held. She was a complete and utter fool back then. It felt so natural the way she was tucked under him so perfectly, rather than being dwarfed. He was lean and solid against her, completely different in a much better way than the hulking masses of her former's. Very much with the good hugs.

Flush against him, there was no mistaking the feel of his hard erection pressed against her stomach and it excited her. Maybe she was moving too fast, maybe she was acting like crazy nympho-Buffy, but she wanted this, wanted him. She wanted to show him how much she had missed him; how important he was to her and how much she wanted to love him. And as she pulled herself tighter to him, she rolled her hips against him, letting her intentions be known.

She felt him eagerly comply, grinding his demin clad cock against the soft fabric of her already damp panties in short hard thrusts. She groaned in response. Even through his jeans she could feel him, hard and wanting, the rough fabric sliding against her clothed pussy lips and pressing ever so slightly against her clit. The sensation it elicited was slow but built up with intensity with every thrust he made.  
“So good luv” She heard him groan. And she felt a huge spike of arousal course through her. God this is what she had missed.  
“Missed this. Missed you” He continued. She felt his left arm leave her shoulder and felt it slowly slide down her back. He brushed his fingers against her spine with feathery touches and she shivered, jerking her hips against him. The movement caused a sharp bump against her clit and she whined, her hips moving of their own accord now. How was she this close already? Just from grinding against him like a young horny teenager. This wasn't supposed to be about her, she had full intentions of making this reuniting about him. And she would, she totally would...right after this.  
“Gonna cum already luv?” And she heard the smirk in his voice. “I can hear it beautiful girl. Your heartbeat's all a flutter. So bloody sexy you are, grindin against my cock” She gasped against him, feeling his strokes get sharper. The hand against her spine slid down lower to her ass and he gripped her tightly, kneading her flushed flesh and pulling her to him in a death grip. She gripped his waist tighter, digging her nails into his tee shirt, whining every time he pulled her against him. The pressure against her clit was achingly slow but it made the buildup so intense.  
“Come for me luv, come for your Spike. Drench me good I've got you; I've got you” His voice poured over her and after six long months without real stimulation, without him, she cried out from the intensity of the first real orgasm she'd had in months.

She heard the growl of satisfaction rumble through him as she came down from the intense high. Holy hell, her panties were fully soaked through. It had been far too long since she had felt anything like this and she knew that he wasn't even trying. She could definitely get used to this. When they had been together, the sex had been.... indescribably good. It had been more than enough to make her feel alive again in a time where she felt long dead inside. Those moments awakened her, set fire to her blood and she had wanted nothing to do with him then. But now, after realizing that she wanted him, truly wanted him and could see herself loving him like he deserved and letting herself be loved back...she could only imagine what could be in the future...if he wanted to be there of course.

The feelings she felt, the intense pleasure of just dry fucking him was just as intense, if not more intense as all of their precious encounters. She could already feel the flames of arousal rise again and she rubbed her thighs together trying to try and relieve some of the pressure.  
“Christ pet. I don't even need my hands to make you come and know your drenched, Gonna give a bloke a complex”  
“You already have one Big Bad” Her breath coming out in harsh pants

He chuckled “Only cause of you Slayer. My god what a lovely thing you are. Your bloke not getting you off proper?” He questioned and she immediately pulled away from his grasp, regretting her choice because limbs felt boneless underneath her sudden support less weight, but she managed to hold her ground. She couldn't help but notice the massive darkened spot against the crotch of his jeans and she felt herself flush.

“Okay first off. Do you really have to do that? What is it with you vampires, being jealous and pointing out weird smells and stuff?!”

“Can't really help it luv. Vampire here. The nose knows. I don't get to turn it off”

“Well you could at least keep it to yourself” She huffed

He didn't reply, just stared at her long and hard with those intense cobalt eyes. It was like he was trying to draw out the answer to a question he hadn't even asked yet. She found his gaze to be too powerful, especially after such an intense moment and broke it, staring instead at the floor.  
“Won't your honey bear be a mite brassed with you about this?” He questioned, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice.

She sighed. She knew that they needed to talk. There were quite a few things that needed to be discussed and she honestly hadn't intended dry fucking him to happen but once it had started, she couldn't help but be swept up in the hurricane that was Spike. But she needed to stop thinking about how much she wanted him and get some important information out of the way first. There were some confessions that needed to be made as well and she was dead set on making sure they came about before there was any more fun to be had. She didn't think she could go through with having sex with him again if it was going to be the first and only time. And she knew that was wrong because she'd done the exact thing to him. But she was done with that kind of relationship with him. She wanted something real and she needed to have all of him for that, not just his body, although it was a gorgeous body to be had. God how she'd missed him. So first thing was first, she needed to quell the beast and make him all un-jelousy.

“Alright first off. He's not my honey bear. He's not my sweetie. He's not my anything. He's just a guy”

He scoffed and turned away from her, striding over to his table and grabbed his pack of smokes. He quickly lit one up, inhaling deeply, blowing the smoke away from her.  
“So your just shagging anyone now a days then?” He quipped, trying to feign indifference, but she could tell that she'd struck a nerve. Let no one say that Spike was not an emotional vampire. He was the most sensitive person she knew, and that was saying something.  
“You come back from across the pond just to rub in dear ole Spike's face that...”

“Oh no no. You!” She hissed, pointing a finger at him “You were the one who died, came back to life and then didn't even bother to tell me. For six months Spike. Six months!? Do you know what it's been like for me?”

“Clearly fine if you’re shaggin 'some guy'” He retorted angrily, throwing air quotes around

“Agonizing” She spoke in a breathy sigh, her eyes becoming watery again already. And when she looked at him through tear filled eyes, she saw that he was taken aback by her answer. Good. Served the jerk right.

“These past six months have been the worst of my life Spike. You've seen the cards I've been dealt. Been through a lot of it with me. Hell Spike, I've died three times now...”

His eyes widened at her statement. “Three times.... Buffy....when did..?”

“Later you jerk, lemme finish” She bit, and she cut him off. She wasn't ready to talk about it yet.

“Oi! Easy with the name callin”

“Well stop interrupting me...this is important” And when it finally seemed that she had his attention, his eyes no longer shooting her daggers, his body not as tense, she continued

“Look...” She started “When I say that he's just some guy, I mean that he's just some guy. Yeah, I dated him for a few months. His sister was a potential turned baby Slayer and she became friends with Dawn. When Giles and I finished building the Rome base, they came back to live in their home country and Dawn was going to school in Rome already, so it only made sense that everyone moved back there. Dawn and Carmen became friends and I started hanging around her brother. I was.... trying to get my life together....after I had lost you. I was having a really hard time with coping with your death. I kinda shut down for a while. And it didn't help that all the Scoobies are either dead or spread out to the four corners of the globe”  
She got another curious look from Spike from that one. Oh yeah, he didn't know about Anya's death either. She had so much to tell him.  
“I only had Dawn....and she's been so busy with her schoolwork and her new Italian friends and just being a mostly normal high school kid that I didn't want to bring her down into it. Not after everything she'd been put through with Glory and the First. So I just kinda tried to deal with all on my own”

“Just like always....eh pet? Never could let anyone help you” His voice low and somber  
“Yeah...” She nodded gearing herself up for the rest. “So I met some guy and I tried to have a life. But it was nothing. Meant nothing. He was nice and sweet and normal” She didn't fail to notice the look of defeat on his face at that. “but I felt absolutely nothing. He wasn't what I needed” She crossed her arms over her chest, still blinking back the tears “And yeah...you smell sex but....” She sighed heavily “It was the first and only time”

“Yeah? And why's that Slayer?”

There was a long silence between them. She couldn't be a coward anymore. So she finally raised her eyes to meet his. They were sullen and pensive, and she knew he was expecting the worst. But she was done with hurting him  
“He wasn't you” She exhaled and felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her heart. The tears in her eyes started to fall, but she made no attempt to. And as she held him gaze she watched all of the bitterness and doubt drain away from his face.

“What....What're you sayin luv?” The look of soft wonderment on his face as he searched her eyes, his own starting to shine as well.

“Spike...there wasn't a single moment of my time with him that I wasn't thinking of you. He didn't look like you, talk like you, have your swagger. He was too tall, too hairy, too tan. He didn't ask me what I wanted or tell me what he liked; he didn't touch me the way you do. I mean we didn't even argue. Not once! I missed you, god I missed you more than anything. I missed sparing with you, the way you always have my back, missed the way you talk to me during sex and all the dirty things you whisper to me...I missed my left. My other half.”

“Buffy...”

“I know you didn't believe me down in the Hellmouth...what I said to you. I know you probably think that I was just saying it because you were dying.... but....” She tore away from those expressive eyes for a moment, but not able to hold in the gasp in her throat when they nearly bore through her. She stepped towards him, his cigarette long forgotten and tentatively grabbed for his right hand. He made no move to stop her and she grasped onto his long thin fingers. She eyed the matching mark. It was white and shiny with age, but it seemed his vampiric healing, or the weird magic that had trapped his soul in the amulet, wasn't enough to keep it from scarring. It was selfish, but she wouldn't want it any other way. Two souls intertwined, brought together by fate, marked to each other forever. It gave her a moment of clarity and light, so rare among the chaos that was swirling all around her. She wrapped her left hand in his, scars locking, flesh woven together, and she caressed his mark with her thumb. She raised her eyes back to his, tears spilling over and for all the right reasons and she burst into a smile.

“I love you Spike” She whispered gently. The look he gave her was heart-wrenching. He looked at her with such confusion and awe, his stunning eyes were like a storm. A swirling of blues and grays and cloudy with tears. She loved that about him. His ability to feel such emotion that it consumed him. He tried so hard all throughout the time she had known trying to convince her that he was capable of feeling, especially when it came to his love for her, but she had never wanted to believe it. Spike wore his heart on his sleeve. Never once feeling ashamed of what he felt and because she hated him for it, she'd thrown his love for her in his face until he shattered.

So when his tears ran down his face, eyes shining bright with a hope that she'd thought she had killed so long ago, she felt her heart swell.   
“I love you” She affirmed; her face fixed in a permanent beam as she watched his lips curl up in a smile. She felt his fingers lock in with hers, his thumb mirrored her own and stroked her scar and then he pulled her to him. She went willingly, stepping into him, keeping their paired hands together and wrapping her other arm around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his neck planting soft kisses where his pulse point would have been.

“Please believe me this time” She spoke gently. “I understand if you don't. I've given you every reason in the world not too” She swallowed “But I need to know if it's possible. Because if not....” She trailed off not wanting to say the words aloud. If she lost him now, she didn't know what she was going to do. Hearing that he was alive was the single greatest news she had heard in a long time. But for once in all the time she'd known him, he was dead silent, and it was terrifying.

Finally, after a long period of silence she heard his reply, his voice thick “Course I believe you. Gods please let it be true. Waited so long to hear it”

“It’s true” She murmured

“Buffy. Sweet Buffy. Love you too. Loved you forever, love you for always. Love you till I dust” He chanted. He snaked his left arm around her little waist, drawing him against her, hips flush, her breasts pressed against his chest, his nose buried in her hair.

“Not dust, am I? Not dreaming? This is real?”

“Very much with the real” She responded with a smile, pressing kisses to any bit of exposed skin on the chalice of his throat, enjoying the little breathy moans and shiver it elicited from him.

He took a deep breath. “You changed your shampoo” He mumbled

She laughed. “That's what catches your notice?”

“'S different. Citrus smells good on you. Reminds me of sunshine, just like you. My ray of sunshine. My Buffy. Love you”

She positively beamed against his skin. Oh yeah. She could definitely get used to this.  
“Love you to William”

She heard him gasp against her and tighten his hold on her. “Say it again” She heard him growl, his voice choked up.

She pulled away from him, brushing her locks away from her face and fiercely met his gaze. His cheeks were wet, and his eyes still filled with tears.

“I love you William” She repeated, pulling the hand intertwined with his, cupped his face and planted a sweet kiss on his lips. He choked back a sob, burying his now free hand in her hair at the base of her neck and returned her chaste kiss with one of his own. She planted another and another and another against his full lips. She took sweet little sips of him, savoring him like she had never done before. He hummed beneath her, and despite the intense lust she knew he had for her, despite the fact that he was painfully hard against her still, he made no attempt to push this into anything more.

But she wanted to give him more. She wanted to give him everything. After everything she had done to him, all the pain she caused him, all the physical and emotional damage she'd put him through, she wanted to do something special for him. Not just to prove to him that she was serious about her declarations, but because she herself felt that she could now. She had starved him for affection for far too long. Merely used his delectable body as a tool for her own selfish gain. Now she wanted so much more for him. It was her turn to find all the little spots that drove him wild, made him gasp and moan, made him cum so hard that he blacked out. She wanted to learn how to play him like he had done for her. And didn't want to wait any longer.

She kissed him until she was dizzy, so drunk on the feeling of loving him that she'd forgotten that she needed to breath. When she pulled away finally, he was panting in short little breaths. She used to think that his human tendencies such as the unnecessary breathing and eating were repulsive. They weren't supposed to behave like humans. There was a clear line in the sand that divided them from the human world. But in a true Spike-like manner, he blurred that line, gave it a two-finger salute and danced over it. Now she found his human qualities endearing. He was so different from anyone else she'd ever met.

“Love you too” Placing another peck on her lips.

“Said that already”

“I'll say it a thousand times more. Never get tired of it”

“That's a lot.... it’s gonna take you forever to say it that many times”

He chuckled at that “Not getting any younger pet”

“I'll say” She quipped

“Oi! Easy with the insults luv. Gonna hurt a bloke's feelings” And when she looked him in the eyes, her heart broke when she saw the hesitancy and false hope that flashed there. She hated now that it was all because of her. Hated seeing that he was still guarding his heart from her. God how awful of a person was she? She never wanted him to feel like that ever again.

“Wouldn't want that” She murmured. She cupped his face again, thumb tracing his perfect cheekbones and pulled him down for another chaste kiss. She threaded her fingers through his ungelled hair starting with the curls at the nape of his neck but moving everywhere. She dug in her fingertips, massaging his scalp in small circles and was surprised to hear him start to purr underneath her. It startled her, never hearing the contented sound that was emanating from that lean athletic chest before. It reminded her of a large cat, to which she had once compared him to before.

“Feels good luv” He rumbled 

She removed her hands from his hair, tugging at the roots as she pulled away and a new wave of arousal washed over when she heard him growl. She felt his hands slide to her hips, fingers digging into her skin, his thumbs hooking underneath the bands.

“These have got to go. Want what’s underneath” His voice low and rough. She could feel him start to tear them away but managed to grab his wrists in time to stop him

“No with the ripping on these” She spoke firmly. His jaw ticked.

“Never stopped us before. Best you don't even wear any knickers anymore pet. Now that I've got you, I don’t imagine you'll be leaving my bed anyways. Plan on shagging you until one of us can't keep going anymore” His tongue curled behind his teeth and she melted. Another gush of moisture pooled between her legs. How did she not think that was sexy before “Wonder who it'll be?” He smirked

“Yes, to the endless sex. Still a big no to the tearing of these...please?” And she pouted. He sucked in a breath  
“Do that again and I can't promise anything” He paused “What's so important bout these anyways? Just a scrap of lace”

“Well....cause they're yours” She mumbled and blushed furious

“Hussat?” He scoffed “They most certainly are not. Not that my fine arse wouldn't look fantastic but there's not enough material there to even hold the bits”

“No you pervert” ...I mean...” She sighed “Well now it sounds stupid....”

“Wont laugh Slayer. Promise”

She eyed him wearily but conceded, releasing his wrists. “I mean...I bought them because they remind me of you...Of your eyes. So when I put them on....it was like I was with you still”

He drew in a breath and when she dared to meet his eyes she was endeared when she saw the wonderment and love in his eyes.  
“Sweet Buffy. My girl. You really love me, don't you?”

“Yes. I love you. I missed you so much.... I just wanted a part of you with me. But I didn't have anything. Everything of yours was either.... burned or buried in the crater that was Sunnydale. I had nothing of yours”

“Oh, dear girl. No more tears. You've got me now. Not going anywhere”

She sniffled and grabbed for his hand again, and he let her take it.  
“Come here” And she led him back towards his bed, spinning him around and pressing him against the edge so that he sat down. “Lay back” She ordered

He cocked an eyebrow in protest, testing to see if she was serious but at the sternness of her face he conceded and walked himself backwards on the bed using his elbows. He'd even managed somehow to make that sexy. Part of her wanted to just jump him now, tear off his offending tight clothing and ride him until they both passed out. But she had a plan and she was sticking to it.  
“Not that I'm not lovin the hell out of this Slayer, but wanna tell me what’s goin on here?”

“What's going on....is that you’re going to lay here and let me love you” She murmured coyly, her face flushing again.

“Careful luv. You keep flushin like that, skin turnin all rosy red and heartbeat pounding away, and a man might lose control” And she didn't fail to notice the flash of gold in his eyes “You expect me to lie back and do nothing?”

“I do” She spoke with resolve, trying to keep her voice from wavering. One false move and her whole plan would be destroyed. She watched him try and figure her out, watched the mirth in his eye grow and finally he laid back.

“Alright” He whispered

As he settled back into the bed, she let her gaze sweep over him. Taking in all the little details she hadn't let herself indulge in before. She planned to take her time with him now, exploring everything. But she had to start getting his clothes off if that was going to happen. She started with his Doc Martins. Slipping them off and setting them on the floor gently, noticing immediately  
“You don't wear socks?” She questioned

He shrugged.  
“Don't sweat. Don't need to worry bout smells and such, 'n my feet don't get colder than the rest of me. What’s got you all interested in my choice in footwear....or the lack thereof?”

“Just...finding things out about you that I didn't know before. I want to. Know more about you” She stated with a sweet smile.

She watched him swallow hard. “Anythin' you wanna know pet. I'm an open book”

“Good. But questions later. Lovin now”  
That low growl of his rumbled through his chest. “You keep sayin that and I can't promise I'll be able to lay still”

“Just do it”

“Bossy chit” He grumbled

“You love it” She winked

“Bloody right I do. Love you Buffy” He murmured

“Love you too Spike” She replied with a grin across her face and watched as he settled back again, a contented sigh leaving his lips. She desperately wanted to crawl back up his body and steal more kisses from him. But much like him, she was already starting to lose control and she wanted to do this for him. With a good night's sleep under her belt and high on their combined confessions of love, she intended on taking all the time in the world on him tonight. Worshiping him like he deserved.

With his boots removed, she climbed up on the bed and crawled over to him, sitting in the gap between his legs. His eyes followed her everywhere, watching her like a predator stalking prey. She would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. She'd never done anything like this before. For most of her sexual experiences, few and far between as they were, she was still just a girl. A girl who was now long since gone, tempered and aged in a world where she needed to grow up fast. She knew little in the way of pleasure, especially male pleasure and really only knew the basics of the acts itself. She sorta knew what she liked, although she was aware that there was a whole other world out there full of new positions and kinks that she'd never explored. The men she had been with before, Angel, Parker, Riley, Ciro....they hadn't done much in the way of teaching her how to please them and the communication between them was almost nonexistent.

Everything that she had learned that wasn't just the information in her high school health textbook, she learned from Cosmo magazines she scored from the girls back at Hemely. She didn't even have those romance novels everyone was so crazy about. Because hello? Buffy here. As in Vampire Slayer comma The. She barely had time back then for a social life, when was she supposed to read a book?

And Spike? He was the complete opposite. He oozed sex. Having more than a century of experience, and no doubt more lovers than she could count. He probably didn't even like this kind of plain sex. How could one girl like herself be able to please him the way he needed? I mean...he had never complained at any point during their trysts before. She only ever heard his words of encouragement and praise. She also didn't figure Spike, someone so utterly sexual in nature to be the kind of man to lie about something as intimate as sex. But how would she be able to please him the right way if she barely knew what she was doing herself?

But as she met his eyes again, eyes dark with want and still watching her every second, she felt her nerves start to melt away. They faded away and were replaced by a need of her own. She wanted to see him writhing. Back arched, eyes screwed shut, making all sorts of yummy noises. Desire washed over her and she watched his eyes turn nearly black and his nostrils flare.  
But she couldn't appreciate him properly while he was wearing so many clothes. So she removed herself from her kneeling positions in the space between his legs and crawled up his body. She knew she was testing her luck, just asking for him to lose control and have her plan ruined, but there was a part of her that wanted to see him squirm while he had to wait.

She settled against him, her lace covered pussy directly on top the seam of his jeans and the wet spot she had left there before. He thrust up against her, his neck cording and his jaw tensing up.  
“Playin with fire there pet. Can't expect me to behave when that pretty cunt of yours is grindin against me”

She smiled coquettishly at him  
“Shirt off now. Couldn't reach from down there” And she fingered the edges of his shirt.

“Bout a little tit for tat then? I take off mine, you take off that thing that's pretending to be a shirt. Want to see those luscious little tittes of yours, all flushed and rosy”

“Nu uh” She exhaled a breathy moan, although his suggestion was tempting.

“No?” He asked

“No” She said firmly. “Buffy with a plan here. A good plan. The best plan....you can't sway me”

“Oh. I can't can I?” He smirked “I'll have you know I can be very persuasive” Eyebrows waggling

“So can I...” Although she wasn't feeling that sure of herself right in this momentarily

But he chuckled, conceding to her and relaxing back against the bed. “Alright then, I concede. Go on then, have your merry way with me. I'll try and be good”

She took a moment to appreciate the way he looked in his signature tee. The way his pecs strained against the fabric; his pebbled nipples clearly visible. She couldn't wait to play with those. Would he even like that? His biceps corded and powerful looked as though they were barely contained within the short sleeves but clearly he had no intention of getting a larger shirt size. Not that she was complaining. She liked the way they busted out and she'd experienced the strength of those arms and the athletic shoulders and back they were attached to.

She loved the contrast between the dark clothing on his body and his flawless alabaster skin, it looked like he was glowing. Like moonbeams shining on a dark lake. Ivory light reflecting off ebony water. And it made his eyes stand out even more. They were like liquid pools of cobalt crystal. Prisms that reflected light and dark and captured everything within those haunted mirrors. She'd always been told that eyes were the windows to the soul. She wouldn't believe it at first with him because there was no soul to investigate. There was nothing on the other side of that black mirror. Maybe it was why they didn't have reflections. But Spike showed more emotion through his eyes than the rest of the world showed through their voices and body language. They were more than just a mirror into his soul, they were a gateway to all of him. So many unsaid words and moments had passed through those cerulean irises of his.

She remembered the night she rescued him from The First, tortured not once now by her enemies, but twice. Carved into, beaten and bruised, his jaw was broken when she had found him. Other than a series of whines and a soft choking sob, he had been unable to make much noise, but he hadn't needed to. She could see the words in his eyes, written in bold letters across his face.

You came for me

Over time, and through many months of reflection, she had come to the realization that he didn't need his soul. And that was a huge admission for her. His love may have not been perfect. In his own words he 'made a lot of wrong bloody calls' but he was always honest with her. It turned out that her need for him to have a soul had nothing to do with him and everything with her insecurities and her childish black and white view on the world. She had tried for so long to put him into the black, force him in the shadows with all the other demons she had faced. Because he had no soul. He was a demon and all demons were evil. She didn't want to acknowledge that he didn't behave like every other vampire she had known, that he wasn't just darkness and that he had the ability to candle his own light.

Through a combination of events such as their alliance against Angelus and the Initiative, Spike had started to change. But his transformation was not as dramatic as her younger self had believed. Even when he had first come to Sunnydale, he had shown signs of the future man that he was today. He adapted to survive in a world that he never truly had a place in. Not quite man, not quite vampire. She surmised it was one of the reasons that he'd made it to his current age and obtained the title of master vampire so quickly. He was neither black nor white. Rather he was a hazy shade of gray in between. A gray, that until recently, she hadn't wanted to believe existed. But there was no way she could look at Spike anymore and see just black or white when she was cut from the same cloth as he. When she learned the history of Slayers, having been infused with a demon herself, there was no way she could refuse the similarities between herself and vampires. Not quite human anymore, but not quite a demon, though the power of one certainly coursed through her.

That was most likely the reason she had tried so hard to vehemently place Spike in the evil box. Because if they were so similar then that meant she was evil too, if even just a little bit and that information turned her world on its axis.  
She was broken from her thoughts by his voice.  
“Alright there Slayer?” He questioned and she came back to the present in a daze

“What?” She blinked

“Been starin a 'mo. Where'd you go sweetling?” Concern lacing his voice.

“The...past...but I promise I'm done being there. You've got me now”

“Got you, do I?”

“You do” She confirmed, smiling lovingly at him.

Before removing his shirt, she placed three butterfly kisses across the strip of skin not quite between the hem and his jeans. He shivered underneath her which spurred her on to expose more. She wanted to wring him of every little shiver and moan she could. She tugged at his shirt, dragging it up his perfect torso, leaving trailing kisses in her wake. She placed another peck below his belly button and another one above. She was so tempted to dip her tongue in it when she heard him growl above her.

“Don't even bloody think about it”

She raised her head, pulled her tongue in her mouth and cocked an eyebrow at him

“Stop reading my mind”

“' 'M not. Can't do that bit. Just know you”

His words melted her because it was so true. She had not allowed him to get personally close to her because she hadn't wanted to give him that he could eventually use against her. And maybe he didn't know who her idol was or what her favorite song happened to be, but he could read her body, her intentions and predict her thoughts better than she could herself sometimes.

“What’s the matter? Did I find the one thing that Spikey doesn't like?”

His jaw tightened and she wondered if she struck a nerve.  
“Cheeky bint. No. Got a few hard limits. But let’s not worry about them now yeah? Just don't particularly fancy it. Not gonna get mad though. Don't rightly think...”

“If you say 'you don't think there's anything that will make you mad at me you’re a liar. You and I both know that there's always gonna be something we argue about. Doesn't matter if its verbal or physical. It’s part of what we are” She paused, her voice taking on a softer tone. “But it’s not gonna be who we are.... not anymore. I don't want us to be anything like how we used to be. Your different. I'm different. This is different. Its better. It’s...well it’s amazing”

“Amazing huh?” And she nodded rapidly at him

“Much with the amazing. Spike...I wanna get to know you better and I want you to know that this isn't just that I've been horny for the past six months you've been gone, and I need an itch scratched. This is me not being a coward anymore. This is me wanting a relationship with you that's more than just sex...This is us being equals”

“Equals....Buffy. Not gonna have anything left to cry if you keep doin this” She could already see them welling in his eyes, his voice cracking. “Don't think I've ever cried this much. Christ I'm so happy” She leaned forward and captured his lips in a kiss and he devoured her in turn. He bolted upright grabbing her by the back of the head and swallowed her whole, drawing her tongue into his mouth, his own tangling with it and he whimpered against her.

Happy. Spike was happy. The thought made her beam. For so long she had wanted him miserable. And suddenly the memory of that night plagued her brain. She'd pushed him to the ground in disgust, throwing bills at him and told him Your beneath me. God what had she done to him...She didn't know how he managed to still be so in love with her after everything she did to him. His lips moved against hers in the perfect combination of passion and reverence. His lips were worshiping hers, wordlessly telling her how much he loved her, loved this and she drank him in with fervor. She was becoming rapidly addicted to his kisses. So much so that she had to remember and pull away from him when she forgot she needed to breath.

“You want a relationship with me?” He questioned, a hope in his voice that she never wanted to not hear again.

“Yeah Spike. I really do. You'll have to forgive me, cause my dating game is a little off but...I can't not be with you anymore”

“Oh Buffy. Hearin you say that? Nothing else matters. I'm the happiest vamp alive”

“You’re not alive” She retorted with a playful smirk

“Cheeky wench” He murmured back in the same playful tone

“I love you” She whispered cupping his cheek, stroking those perfect cheekbones

“Love you to” He returned nuzzling against her. She planted a chaste kiss on his lips, know if she indulged herself in anymore of his addictive kisses, she'd be truly lost for the night. And while that sounded good any other night, she still had a lot planned for him and hadn't even gotten to really start.

“This makes it easier anyways” She mumbled. Grabbing the edge of his tee shirt and quickly pulled it off his body. She tossed it to the side, placed a hand gently at the center of his chest and pushed him back.  
“Stay” She commanded and speechless he nodded, even going so far as to place his hands behind his head.

Now that his shirt was off, she had the chance to fully appreciate his sculpted torso. Little had changed in the time she'd seen him last without a shirt, but he looked fuller, like he'd put on more muscle in the past couple months. He still managed to retain that lean compactness that was so inherent of him though. Her fingers started at his waist, tapered and narrow, that sinful V leading down below his jeans to his insatiable hardness. They ghosted up his skin finding their way across his taunt abdomen and she ran her fingers through the light smattering of downy hairs. She traced up the planes of his abs, marveling at the hardness of the muscle there, yet amazed to find his skin was so soft. Roaming higher she dragged her a single finger up the center of his chest, over his sternum, his throat, his chin and finally until she laid it against his lips. He pressed the tiniest of kisses to that fingertip and she shuddered.

“Feels so good Pet” He groaned “Love the way you love me”

“There's plenty more to come”

“You'll be the bloody death of me”

“No more death” She whined and placed her hands flat on his pecs, steadying herself. “I couldn't bear it”

“Oh sweet...not goin anywhere. Be right here, by your side, for as long as you'll have me. 'S the only place I want to be” His eyes gazed into hers with a softness that had her heart constricting in her chest. Who knew that under all of the leather, lewd comments and Big Bad persona that there was such a sweet romantic man? She didn't know much about him before he was turned, but she had the feeling that she was getting a glimpse into that man, into William. She smiled down at him and let herself continue to explore him.

She dug her fingers into the skin of his pectorals kneading them like a cat would a pillow. A very hard and muscular pillow. Every so often, a fingernail would scrape against his dark nipples and he'd suck in a breath underneath her. She grinned as she played with him, becoming aware that what she'd done by accident she now teased him with on purpose. She'd never thought about male nipples as being an erogenous zone for men like it was for a woman, and the men she had been with before were wigged out by it if she did anything more than kiss them, especially Riley and Ciro. She guessed it had something to do with their insecure masculinity or some bullshit. But not with Spike, it seemed he was open to anything and that put a whole lot of surprisingly wicked ideas in her head, things she didn't think she was capable of thinking about.

So as she touched him, switching between raking her fingernails over his now tight little buds and caressing them with a single finger, she tried to imagine if it were her and what she'd liked so she could mirror that back to him. She gently pinched them between her thumb and forefingers, rolling and lightly twisting until they were taunt and hard. His eyes rolled back, and she watched as he started to pant beneath her, shallow little breaths that had her feeling drunk on him. When they were hard as dusky little diamonds, she lowered her mouth to the right one and pressed a tiny butterfly kiss to it.  
“Fuck” He whimpered, pressing his chest up into her and she felt the simultaneous hard throb of his still clothed erection against her thigh. Arousal spiked through her at his reaction. He was so incredibly hard beneath her; she could feel him pulsing and twitching through his jeans. Oh yeah. This was going to be fun.

She pulled away, at which he emitted a whine at the loss of contact and a rush of feminine pride raced through her. She didn't think she was going to be capable of this loving stuff. It used to be too difficult for her to connect with another person on the emotional level she thought she needed for sex, especially when she couldn't even feel it for herself. But Spike? God he was exactly what she needed. He was so forthcoming about exactly what he was feeling and so incredibly reactive to her touch. It stroked her fragile ego, coaxing out the sexual being that was buried so deep within her, bringing her closer and closer to the surface. Seeing this man, this creature of the night, sexual deviant, her Master vampire writhing under her because she was toying with his nipples of all things was the most powerful aphrodisiac she'd ever known.

She kissed across his hairless chest, laving her tongue into the dip of his sternum and proceeded to kiss his other nipple the same as the first. His reaction was the same, pressing against her, trying to get her to take more and still she felt the throbbing of him against her.  
“Buffy...” Her name coming out as a long drawn out whine when she didn't give him what he wanted. She could get used to this, pondering briefly if she could get him to beg. She bet she could and oh that thought was enticing. But she decided to take pity on him, he was being so good after all. The phrase good boy flashed through her brain along with the image of her above him, using those manacles that he loved so much, and she shocked herself in how much she wanted that. She stowed that idea away for now and bent down to kiss him again, this time sucking it into her mouth.  
“Christ!” He exclaimed “So bleedin hot. Such a hot little mouth” He babbled

She moaned against him and continued her lavishing strokes. She alternated between broad flat licks and pointed flicks, testing to see which he preferred. When the darkened bud of his left pec was flush and swollen, she switched back over to the right and did the same thing. She took his pebbled flesh and kissed it as though it was his mouth, nibbling lightly on occasion which earned a series of grunts every time her teeth scraped against him. He whimpered beneath her, thrusting against her thigh in time with her languid sucking. And in return, she rolled her hips against him, not being able to stop herself from once again grinding against him. She didn't stop him this time when his hands left their position behind his head to grab onto her thighs tightly, pulling her down against his denim covered cock.

“ 'S right luv. Feel me beneath you? Got me so bloody hard. The things you do”

She groaned at the roughness of his voice but continued to play with him. When his right bud had received the same treatment as his left, she pulled away again. Both nipples were dark and swollen with her kisses, pointed towards her and begging for more. And she couldn't help but oblige him, not with the look on his face. She took them both between her fingers again, digging her nails a bit into the sensitive flesh and she pinched and rolled again, this time with more strength.  
“Harder” She heard him grunt, grinding the single word out through his teeth, his piercing blue eyes, nearly black with lust boring into her. She really had no idea what she was doing, but she found that the more she just listened to her instincts, the easier it became. She in took a shaky breath and nodded back at him, unable to break away as she obeyed his command. She ground her hips against him still, moving in time with the rhythmic rolling of his nipples, coaxing the sore little buds back to hard little peaks, grabbing them roughly and sharply tweaking them between her fingers. His reaction was explosive.

“Fuck!” He screamed. He jerked against her erratically, one, two, three times before throwing his head back and roaring. He held her against him with vampiric strength as he came. She was so tightly pressed against his body; she could feel his dick spasming underneath her and she nearly fainted from the intensity of it. Holy shit.... he came from just that? It was incredibly intoxicating knowing she could bring him to orgasm just as easily as he did her by doing something as small as this. She was dizzy above him, along for the ride, letting him keep thrusting up against her until he was completely spent, falling back on the bed and panting hard.

“Christ...Buffy...my little sun goddess. What you do to me....so good”

“That was...really hot” She breathed, and he sneered beneath her

“Came like a virgin fledge in my trousers. Fail to see how that's hot. I'm a master vamp, have more control then that”

“You came because I played with your nipples. I didn't know men could be that sensitive there. Let alone that you can come from that”

She trailed off and looked more closely at said nipples, now noticing that on each side of both nipples, there were the tiniest of little scars, little white pinpricks that stood out against the dark swollen flesh.

“What are those?” She asked gesturing

He glanced down at his chest and smiled.  
“Holes that never healed properly”

“From...?”

“Piercing's luv”

She gawked. Spike...with nipple piercings? She tried to imagine them. Little silver bars bisecting his dark nipples and she flushed again.  
“You had them pierced? When?”

“1970's... When I was in New York” He sighed contently. “Best years of my life they were. Before I met you of course”

“Why?”

“Why were they the best years of my life?”  
“Why'd you get them pierced? Didn't it hurt?”

“Bored mostly. Thought they looked nice. Feel damned good. Love a bit of pain”

“Right...vampire....do they really feel good”

“Can be yeah. Dru had a nasty habit of rippin em out, hence the scars. But when played with right 's a good balance of pleasure and pain” He explained. She frowned, not particularly loving the mention of his crazy ex while he was laying half naked underneath her, but it did make her a bit more curious and it must have shown on her face, because he was talking again.

“Imagine grabbing em', tuggin a bit, twistin', pressin those gorgeous little tits of yours up against em” He drawled and the mental imagine of him beneath her, bound while she played with him flashed through her mind. It was not an unpleasant thought.

“People really get them pierced?”

“And more” He added. She followed the quick flick of his eyes down to where their lower parts were pressed together. She followed his gaze, eyes widening

“There?!” She exclaimed

“On both bits luv.” He said with a smirk “Had that one too...willing to get them again if you'd like” He ran an appreciative glance down her body, lingering at her groin. “You'd look lovely with a bit of jewelry. Pretty little stone on a pretty little bud”

She could feel her entire face turn red at that.  
“Much with the no....I mean.... maybe...I dunno. All of this is so....and there's so much I don't know. All these. Weird piercings and....kinks and...” She trailed off, getting ahead of herself. She didn't know anything about all this. There was nothing exotic about her, nothing different. She was plain ole vanilla pudding.

“Oh luv...” He chuckled darkly “I've got so much I can teach you”

“I'm sure there is.... But I'm not.... I haven't...other than you” She jumbled, fumbling for a loss of words. “I haven’t. Deviated much...haven't done much outside the normal stuff, other than what we did. But I wanna try.... with you..” She admitted, peeking up through her eyelashes for his reaction. It was a mix of quiet understand and sinful lust.

“Kitten....I'll teach anything you want. Let you try whatever you want. Gettin to watch you explore yourself, what makes you hot, your kinks, what makes your heavenly body tremble and sing. Whether its beneath me or above me. 'M here”

“That’s...Good...but not now. Now is about you” She spoke head spinning at his words.

“Case you haven't noticed. I've had my little death. I think it’s my turn now” He grinned wolfishly at her.  
“That was...a deviation in the path” She explained. When he didn't look convinced, she pouted. “I'm still not done yet”  
“Jesus Buffy...how much more do you think I can take? You can't expect me to just sit here for longer. I'm wasting a whole meal here” He growled, gesturing to the wetness that had now spread from her panties and was coating the inside of her legs. She flushed furiously...Meal?

“Please....” She pleaded “A little longer. It'll be worth it”

He sighed, “God Buffy, if its anything like this I know it will. Just know that I'm one very small step from losing it. Can't keep the demon down forever. He'll bloody break loose eventually”

She grinned “Don't worry.... I’ll take care of him too”

She watched his eyes widen and flash gold. His demon clearly hearing her and swam just under the surface of his handsome human face.  
“Bloody get on with it” He growled and forced himself to lay back down forcefully locking his hands under his head, starring up at with hooded eyes, still flickering blue and yellow.

Seeing him so close to losing control like that should scare her or at least make her a little more cautious of him. Her Slayer instincts were screaming at her that there was danger in front of her. And she was still cautious of him. As much as she loved and trusted him, there was a tiny part of her that would always be just a little bit wary of him because of what he was. But she knew that he was losing control not because of his temper or bloodlust, but because of his want of her and his need to reciprocate. He was holding himself back from ravishing her, not killing her and that inspired lust, not fear. She slid down his body, kissing as she went down, hot open-mouthed kisses that she poured her feelings and intentions out into. When she got to his abs, she rumbled above him appreciatively.   
“God your gorgeous” She said with a grin, laving the hard-defined bunches of muscle. Taking her time to admire each one of them. “I'm sorry I never told you that before...” She trailed off, dipping her tongue into the divets between each muscle, laving the pale skin with pointed sweeps.  
“Don't need to apologize” His voice strained but soft.

“Yes, I do. I was awful to you. Downright cruel. I hated myself and I took it out on you and that wasn't fair. All you wanted was to love me. And I couldn't even love myself”

“Past is the past. Can't change the way things happened pet. Can only move forward”

“How can you be so calm about this? So trusting? I've never given you a reason to”

“Slayer, meet love's bitch” 

“No more of that. Can't hurt you anymore. I want you as a partner, as my lover. Not a slave”

“And if I fancy all three?” He questioned; eyebrow raised

She blushed. Those thoughts arose again, bound, begging, on his knees. Her blood was on fire, lust consuming.  
“I think maybe that might be okay” She admitted shyly

She watched his pupils dilate, heard the intake of breath and the moan that followed.  
“Christ Buffy I'm yours. Say the word.”

“Yes....but not tonight” She mumbled.

“As you command” He replied, tone even, eyes never leaving hers. A flare of power rose within her, different from the power of a Slayer. A newly awakened power, seated deep within her, unfurling at the thought of having control.

“I... I’m just gonna” And gestured downwards, not wanting to look at him for his response. This was all so embarrassing. She wasn't used to being so open with her feelings, her thoughts and desires. But she had a connection with Spike that she hadn't with anyone else. It had taken her awhile, but she'd become comfortable with him. She needed to stop stalling; she'd talk herself out of it if she kept stalling. So she channeled a little bit of that power she felt earlier and forced herself to keep going.

She stopped at the edge of his signature black jeans. She glanced up at him timidly, locking eyes with his, solidly blue and watching her intensely.  
It made her a little nervous because of what she intended to do. She knew that Spike was not the kind of lover to make fun of her for any of her sexual shortcomings, but she had so little experience with oral sex. Giving a man oral pleasure wasn't something she had a lot of practice with. With Angel, their one night had only consisted of the typical missionary style, which she was grateful for because of its simplicity for her first time. But other than him going down on her there was no real foreplay and there obviously hadn't been a second time. She didn't think she ever even saw his...thing. Parker was fun, but that's all it was. He had taught her a few things after finding out that it was the first time, she'd ever gone down on someone. Before that, the only knowledge she had come from magazines and although Parker gave her a few pointers like.... don’t use teeth, lick here, hold it here, he wasn't very encouraging.

Riley, she experimented with a bit more once they were physical on a regular basis, but he had been wiggy about wanting her down there, like it was somehow degrading her perfect little image. Ciro? She wasn't in the head space for it to even be on her radar. She had tried dating him with the hopes that she could be intimate with him in more ways than one...but that didn't work out of course. She had kissed him, messed around with him a little. She'd let him finger her a few times and she'd gotten him off by dry fucking him just as many, but she never felt the desire to give him that kind of act. And looking back at their last encounter the first time they'd had sex? She imagined he would have reacted the same was as Riley if she had proposed it. For fucks sake he didn't even want her to talk dirty to him, let alone suck his cock. And Spike...she'd only allowed him that pleasure one time...and it was to get her way. Just another way to manipulate him. She had crudely sucked him off, not bothering to try and make it pleasant for him because back then because he didn't deserve an act of intimacy like that. Toys didn't need to be serviced.

But it wasn't like that anymore. Now she needed to make it good for him. She wanted so badly to make up for all of the cruelty she inflicted upon him, all the pain and heartache and sexual frustration that she forced him through. She couldn't say how many times she had left the poor man blue balled in his own home, not caring about his own pleasure after taking hers. And that's why she was so nervous. She didn't want to let him down. She didn't want him to think that she was doing it wrong because she still didn't care about it enough. What if he hated it? No. She had to stop thinking like this. She shut off the nagging in the back of her head that was telling her she was inadequate so she could focus on making him feel good. She shakily took a hold of the silver button of his jeans, popped it and started to tug them down.

The sharp intake of her breath from above her caught her intention and then he was rumbling in that low drawling voice of his.  
“Look so lovely down there” He purred, lifting his hips as she pulled them down over his hips, revealing the taunt pale skin. She brushed her lips through the downy trail of dark hair, leading her down to the skin she had exposed. Before she continued pulling his jeans down, revealing him completely to her, she pressed two kisses to him, one each on the crests of his bony hips. He shuddered under her and she became addicted to the sound. So she continued with this new path, placing little kisses down the pale skin over one curve of his hip. He trembled under her and she kissed until she tasted denim under her lips, not skin. She mirrored her actions on the other side, adding little nips as well.  
“Teeth luv. Use your teeth. Won’t hurt me promise. Just need...”

His reactions fed her confidence, little moans and whimpers as her teeth brushed his skin, but she didn't bite just yet, he arced into her, begging her to take more between her teeth. She sat back on her heels and removed herself from him, climbed over his thigh and settled at his side.  
“Come back” He whined “Need you here, need your heat” He whined

“Gotta get these off” Her voice was rough, shaky, it was getting hard to breath. She wanted this, his desperation for her fed her need for him. She grasped his jeans again, this time pulling them down until more of his creamy pale skin was revealed. Thighs, knees, shins, calves, ankle and then they were pulled off his slender feet and for the first time in over a year he was bare before her.

Her mouth watered, eyes immediately drawn to his jutting cock, foreskin already drawn back, his ruddy head dark and swollen. He bobbed under her gaze, painfully hard and begging for her touch. He was already leaking again, and she didn't fail to notice the remnants of his spending's from earlier, sticky trails down his thigh, wetness pooled at the junction of torso and thigh. She had the overwhelming urge to taste it, taste him. She hadn't before. The one time she'd gone down on him she wouldn't swallow, couldn't let anymore of him be in her. But now the need consumed her. She climbed back between his outstretched legs, scooting up as far as she could.  
“That's it pet. Come closer. Need you with me” He coaxed, and she was drawn into him. She bent her head, kissed his abs again, reveling in the hard muscle under her lips, felt him spasm and twitch in more than one place. His cock jerked against her chest leaving smears of precome on her. Cold seed cooling her heated skin for brief moments.

“Touch me pet. Please” He whined, bucking up into her, his enlarged head bumping her chin. Her panties were becoming uncomfortably wet, damp cloth rubbing against her swollen lips.

She ignored his pleas, rather pleased with the way he was pleading her for attention. Instead she focused on kissing him. Her lips gliding down his panting body, nibbling on little bits of ivory flesh as she went. She made her way to the crease of his thigh and wasted to time lapping up the remains of his orgasm. He bucked against her violently.  
“Fuck!” He roared, gripping the sheets beside him with white knuckles. “Look how sexy you are, lickin me up. Taste good little kitten?”

She moaned against his skin, digging her nose into the crease of his thigh, barely brushing his sack while she tasted what was left on his skin. It was...different, but not unpleasant. He tasted earthy, a little salty and with a faint metallic taste and aroma.  
She nodded against him, panting hard from not taking in any air. She pulled back after cleaning him up and took him in.  
“That's my girl” He hummed. She felt his hand at her shoulder, fingers lovingly caressing her skin.

“Come up to your Spike now. Give us a kiss?” His hand snaking higher, grabbing onto the back of her neck. She let him pull her to him, body sliding up the length of his, gasping as his swollen prick was smashed between them, petite breasts pressed against the solid muscle of his chest. When she reached his mouth, he attacked her, tongue wasting no time prying past her lips and into the hot cavern of her mouth. He grasped the back of her skull tight and she moaned into him as he assaulted her, licking and sucking her tongue into his own, mouth mauling hers, consuming her. His kisses set her on fire, had her gasping and panting, she couldn't breathe. She felt her heart hammering under her chest, her ears getting hot and black spots swarmed around her vision, but she didn't want to pull away. It felt oddly...good? Pleasure so intense that she didn't want to breathe. And then he was pulling away and her head swarmed, and pinpricks wash over her entire body, straight down to her toes and it left her heaving, an intense wave of confusing desire that went straight to her core.  
“Alright sweet” His voice laced with concern. “Heartbeat was getting slow there. Why didn't you pull away?”

“I couldn't breathe....and it felt good” Her confession extremely confusing. “Everything was so...calm for a moment. All I could feel was you kissing me. And then when I could breathe again...it was so intense...a full body kind of pleasure” She admitted between pants and deep breaths. “God does that make me fucked up?” She chuckled bemusedly.

“Never” He answered without a beat “It’s something we can explore. 'S gotta be done carefully with you pulsers. Don't wanna kill you of course. Gotta find that perfect moment where the high just outweighs the pain. Breath play can be dangerous luv”

She mouthed the words, testing them on her lips. “Guess we found a kink...huh?” She asked embarrassed.

“Never be ashamed of what makes you feel good” He reassured. “Nothing wrong with it. Nothing wrong with you”

“Guess it’s just me though right?” She asked and he chuckled, amusement in his voice.

“Gotta have breath for that. Can't asphyxiate a dead man”

“Your more than just a dead man....and I trust you”

He sucked in a breath, staring at her with those azure eyes. “Say it again” He whispered.

“I trust you. More than I trust anyone else. I want you here. Need you by my side. Love you” She whispered, nuzzling his cheek with her own.

“Sweet Buffy....love you too” He returned turning toward her to kiss her cheek, the corner of her mouth, her lips. Sweet loving kisses that made her heart swell. Cooled her down. Her body ached for him, but her head was clear again. She pulled away from his grasp and he let her, hands falling away to the bed again.

She wanted to take her time with this, wanted it to be more than just giving him a blowjob. She made her way back down his body and kneeled between his legs again, but instead of just diving right in, she wanted to take some more time with the rest of him. So she scooted down further...all the way down to the end of the bed.  
He eyed her curiously but made no other moves.

She'd never taken the time to just enjoy the visuals of a man's body. They were always either under the covers, hidden from sight or everything moved too fast for her to get a look eyeful. But now here with Spike, she could sit back and admire him. Worship him like he deserved. Her eyes raked over him, taking in the delicate arch of his rather slender feet, his slim ankles that became hard muscled calves, bony shins and knees. And then her gaze landed upon his thighs. Thick with corded muscle but covered in such soft creamy skin and peppered with dustings of soft hairs. She salivated at the thought of those powerful thighs. All that muscle that fueled his chaotic fighting style that kept her on her toes. His combination of deadly spins, twists and kicks that when he hit, left her reeling.

“Starin like that.... makes a bloke think some things. What's going through the pretty head of yours?”

“Just....admiring” She mumbled, reaching a hand out to grab a hold of his left thigh kneading the muscle underneath, her fingers briefly brushing against his still straining erection.

“Slayer please....” He gasped as she kneaded a little harder “This is bloody torture”

“I promise I'm gonna take care of you” She assured. “Let me do this”

“Little minx” He groaned. “What have you done to me?”

“Not enough” She replied with a smirk

“Bleedin' hell”

She grinned and went back to massaging his thigh, sliding her hands underneath, winding them under his thick thighs cupping the firm globes of his ass and lifting his hips, kneading the newly acquired flesh. He mewled beneath her, thrusting his cock into empty air, desperate and needy. She glanced at it, pure arousal flaring through her as she took in the engorged length of him, thick and pale save for his flared weeping head, flush and crimson.

“Buffy” He whined

“Soon” She placated and placed an open-mouthed kiss to his inner thigh, blunt teeth scraping against the sensitive skin she nibbled the tender flesh.

“Do it” He commanded, his voice rough

“No”

“Bloody hell. Gonna kill me”

“Your already dead” She quipped

“Ta luv, had no idea” He growled sarcastically.

She kissed up the front of one thigh before switching to the other and kissed all the way down his body, ending with tiny pecks against the inside of his ankle, up the arc of his foot and the tip of his big toe.  
She scanned his body, thoroughly tense, unbelievably hard and unable to catch the breath he didn't even need. His responsiveness was a drug. She had one little taste of him, of what she could do to him, what he could do to her, what they could explore together, and she was hooked. She was completely addicted to the feelings of lust and the power it gave her.

She prowled back up, sitting between his open legs. She still wanted to worship him, take her time and show him how much he meant to her. She wanted it to be intimate, more than just her bent over his cock and sucking him down. She folded her legs under her, her left arm slipping underneath his left thigh, grabbing onto the firm muscle of his left cheek, resting her head on top of said thigh with her head turned towards his groin. She stretched out the rest of her body, tangling her legs with his right, her groin flush against his right thigh.

“Such a pretty view” He purred “Sweet Slayer. Gonna suck my cock?”

She flushed at his crudeness. How was is that she was so turned on by words that once inspired disgust. Maybe because coming from him, a man who thought she could do no wrong, that wanted her anyway he could, was so desperate for her it consumed him made it feel powerful...not dirty. The nerves came back to her and she hit a metaphorical wall. Now that he was right in front of her, hard and heavy, she was intimidated that she would do it wrong

“I...” She started her breath shaky. “I don't.... I’ve only...” She fumbled, not able to say the words, the confidence that she had built up all but gone. Thank goodness he seemed to understand her plight.

“Just breath luv. 'S okay. Just do what feels right. I'll teach you the rest” He spoke softly, running fingers through her hair. “I rather like this” He followed up, playing with her locks, brushing fingertips over the back of her neck.

“Me too...” She whispered, tentatively reaching out and gently wrapped a delicate hand around the base of him.  
“Fuck” His strangled voice coming out in a long drawn out man. “That's it luv, just a bit tighter”

She complied and squeezed him a bit more and he surged under her, jerking in her hand. Slowly she started to pump him, watching in fascination how thin skin slid over the thick column of him. He grunted under her every time her fist came down on him, thrusting in time with her lazy strokes. She snuck a peek up at his face, eyes boring into hers, watching her every move. It should have been intimidating, but she actually felt her nerves calm a bit.

“So good luv. Such a hot little hand you have. See me swell? All for you” He babbled

She loved him like this. Completely undone around her. No swagger, no ego, just a man lost to pleasure. Bucking under her, hips rising and falling to meet her timid movements. While she continued to stroke him, she turned her attention to his heavy sack, inches away from her face. It was never something she even looked at before, but it seemed unfair to leave it unattended. So she did something she'd never done before. Timidly, she leaned forward, nudging her nose into wrinkled flesh and flicked her tongue against it.

“Buffy!” He cried out, his cock roughly thrusting in her grip and he groaned from that too.  
It was unusual, the texture of his skin odd but not unpleasant. She kissed experimentally; lips tickled by hair but every kiss she made had him moaning 'ohhs' above her. With no available hands, her other hand still languidly stroking him, she lavished him with her mouth, nipping little folds of skin. She was rewarded with the most intoxicating slew of noises from him. Breathy moans and heady grunts that set a line of electricity down to her clit, making her throb. She thrust against his other thigh and watched his head loll back.  
“Beautiful girl look at you. Writhin against me, cock in hand, face buried in my sac. Drivin me barmy you are. Nibble me a bit pet”  
She obliged, taking bits of skin into her mouth and grazing him with her teeth, nibbling lightly. He cursed above her. She soothed the love bites with tender kisses and then found one of his balls and sucked it into her mouth.  
“Christ” He howled. “That’s it baby. You've got it. Roll me like that. Yesss” He hissed. She sucked him harder and then released him with a pop. She went back to kissing him, spurred on by his wanton thrusting and cursing above her. No longer shy, she propped herself up a bit and dove into him, kissing fervently on ever inch she could get. Tongue darting out to lave him with the flat of her tongue, lapping him up, snaking underneath his reddened flesh and accidentally licking his perineum.  
“Again” He groaned hoarsely, and she complied. Licking the strange bit of skin. He whimpered bucking into her. So she flicked her pointed tongue against the spot again and again and again until he was babbling again.  
“So good. Christ pet look at you. Lappin me up. Grab me tighter” He commanded. Her grip on his weeping prick tightened and he wailed above her. “Under the head” He gasped out “Like this” He made a shape with his fingers, an O with this thumb and index finger. She raised her head from his thigh and mimicked him, a ring around his lovely prick. “Good sweet, that’s a girl. Now tighten. Squeeze me good. Hold it just like that. No pumpin” He encouraged, and she did what he said. She clasped her fingers tightly around him, his swollen head dark purple with borrow blood.  
“It... looks painful” She whispered.

“Sorta...not really painful. Uncomfortable as hell but keeps me from cumming” He growled

“Don't you want to?”

“Fuck yeah I do....but this'll make it better later. It'll let you explore me more without you having to worry about me popping. Gotta last for you sweet. Your doin so good”

“You mean it?”

He scoffed “Are you daft? Course I bloody mean it. Drivin me off my trolley you are. Silly thing. What did those blokes do to you to make you think you’re not good enough?”

She bent back down to his heavy sack, nuzzling him with her nose  
“Nothing really” She answered honestly “I just didn't really do it much. And never like this. I never took my time. They either didn't want me there or wouldn't tell me what they wanted. I don't really know what I'm doing” She felt embarrassed admitting it and instead planted kisses against his sack, mesmerized by the way the skin moved around and on its own.

“Wankers” He growled “Most kiddies don't know what they want. Expect their girl to do all the work for em and then complain she gives bad head when they don't tell em what they want. Makes it better for both parties if your honest. Don’t have to worry bout that with me sweetheart”  
“And this is good?” He questioned herself

“This is bleedin brilliant” He replied with a dazed awe in his voice “Do it again then kitten, draw me in. Don't be afraid to bite. Think I'll fancy it”

She smiled into him, licking the soft underside, less covered it hair. She inhaled him. He didn't sweat so he didn't smell bad, just musty and male and intoxicating. She pulled on him, experimenting with the amount of teeth and pressure. He moaned above her, encouraging her. Then she gummed him, drawing in the unattended testicle, pressing it against the roof of her mouth, rolling it with her tongue. It was such a strange feeling, and she'd never been able to do something like this before. She messed around with Parker and Riley a bit but not with so much enthusiasm. There was no ick factor that came with pressing her face into him like there was with human males. Chalk one up for the vamp lovers. She released him from the roof of his mouth and instead peppered him with kisses and little nips.

“Precious girl” He rumbled above her. “Treating me like my stones are solid gold. Like that don't you? You’ve got a wicked little tongue, can’t wait to have it wrapped around me” His voice was soft but gravely and as she glanced up to look at him, she saw the flickering of those intense eyes. Like the yellow light of dawn breaking over the dark blue skies of night.

“You have to tell me what you like” She whispered. “I want it to be good. You deserve good”  
“Sweetness” He groaned “Just do what you feel's natural but just bloody put me in. Need to feel you suckin me into oblivion. Need you mouth, want your cunt. Please” He pleaded.

Oh....He was begging now was he? Powerful and deadly, her master vamp was pleading with her to suck his cock. It was overwhelming, this feeling of power. It rushed to her head. Nasty, dirty things came to her mind, whispers in her ears. She wanted to play. Who knew Spike would be so willing to be submissive? It thrilled her. But she wanted so desperately for it to be sweet their first time after everything that had happened between them. God the last time she'd had sex with him was when Riley had come back. She pushed away those thoughts, resigned to bring them back up another day.

“Say it again” She asked

“Please” He begged, head thrown back. “Can't take it anymore. So bloody hard it hurts”

“I can see that” She whispered, entranced by his engorged prick, bobbing under her, desperate for her attention.

How the hell am I going to do this? I mean....I knew he was big. I've had him before. I just don't remember it being this daunting. I didn't think it was like this. How the hell did I fit that monster?

“Don't worry bout the size pet” He assured, once again, always seeming to know what was on her mind, sometimes before she even knew it. “Don't have to fit it all, I'll show you. Don't worry a pretty little hair on that gorgeous head of yours. Just come here. Take me please. Need those rosy lips around me pet”

She finally decided that she tortured him enough. There would always be more time to explore. At least she hoped there would. She knew that even though she had spent a good long while exploring him that there was much more to be learned and that thought made her heart swell. She held her death grip around the base of his head. Now though, she rose up from her position, her head leaving his powerful thigh. With a pointed tongue she drew a line from the underside of his balls, and finally, finally up the underside of his cock.

“Fuuuck” He hissed, long and drawn out, hips shifting to try and meet her, but she wouldn't let him. She was still running this show. She continued to draw up his length, nibbling little bits of the soft excess of his foreskin and he grunted as she did so. As she tried to continue kissing her way up, she found because of their positioning that she could no longer reach but found herself comfortable where she was. Sensing her plight, she felt him shift under her and she moved to accommodate the change. Instead of lying in a supine position, he turned to lay on his left side, propping up his other leg to steady himself so she could continue to lay her head against his thigh. Able to access him now she continued her path of laving him with the flat over her tongue, licking and nibbling as she went. He babbled nonsense as she went, and she smirked at his loss of language.

She took her time, not just because she found it was fun to tease him, but because she wanted to make up for all the lost time she could have been doing this for real. She wished things had been different back then. That they hadn't treated each other so badly and tried to ruin each other. They were deadly forces of nature when faced against each other. Ready to destroy the other, wind and fire, tsunami crashing against earth. Light and dark, the eternal struggle of good versus evil. But neither of them was made up of only one. She did not belong in the shadows, but neither did he. She'd realized it too late.  
Things would be different now. There was no self-hate or loathing and none towards him either. Only love was left after all the rest had been burned and cut away. His love for her had driven them apart, changed him, killed him, kept him away from her. But her love for him had brought them back together.

And now she lay before him, worshiping the body that had selflessly worshiped hers. He had tried for so long to prove that he was good enough for her and it wasn't until he was dying that she realized that not only was he good enough, he was better. In the end it was Spike who had helped to show her the person she had become. Their relationship was touch and go for most of the time, filled with anger, mistrust, and a lot of wrong bloody calls on both their parts. But in the end, they had gotten past that, forged a bond. In the end she found an ally, a teacher, a friend, a lover. He'd reminded her that she couldn't be the Slayer without a demon of her own. That she couldn't be the light without just a little bit of dark. Maybe if she had gotten out of her own head sooner, things would have been different. Maybe things would have turned out better than both of them.

Of course, it would probably be better for him right now if she would actually do as the poor man was begging and finally take him into her mouth. She peeked a glance up to him and found his eyes already trained to hers in a soul penetrating gaze. He looked at her as though he was a man starved, desperate for any scrap, any tasty little morsel he could get his hands on, waiting for the opportune moment. Had he always looked at her like that? Like she was the only woman that could satisfy his craving? His every desire? Spike could easily have any man or woman he wanted, but always only had eyes for her, even when she was a downright bitch to him. And now, she only had eyes for him.

The thought made her feel warm, happy.... loved. Truly loved. The kind she imagined people felt when they found the person they wanted to be with for the rest of their life. She wanted to give everything to him, now that she felt in her heart that she could.

She took him in for a moment, letting herself admire him. This man who was so starved for attention, so desperate for love. Whom she never let herself appreciate in the physical sense because it was wrong. Good girls didn't sleep with evil because it was wrong. But as she gaped at him from her viewpoint against his thigh, she now found herself internally drooling, mentally kicking her past self.

How in the hell did I not appreciate him before? He’s always been so hot, that accent, this body... He's art....literally like one of those ancient statues.

“Fuck your sexy” She whispered reverently.

He smiled warmly back at her, loving the way he was legitimately smiling, face relaxed, human teeth showing, dazzling white.

She looked up the line of his form. Soft, milky skin that was stretched tight over hard cut lines and lithe sinewy muscle. Black and blue spiderwebs spread under his skin that contrasted the near perfect alabaster akin. Slim feet, toned calves and thick shinbones that are tough enough to break even the most stalwart enemy bones. Hard thighs that were soft enough to be her personal pillow, but strong enough to pop the head off anything...or keep her pinned to the ground...or a wall...or a tree. The thought had her breathless and aching for him. She continued her mapping of him; narrow hips, the dip between his hips and cock. The arc of his prominent hip bones, flowing into a flat toned stomach broken up only by the peaks and valleys of his abs. She ogled the bulge of his pectoral muscles, topped with those dark jewels of his nipples, still swollen from playing with them earlier. God did she want to see him with those piercings. His athletic torso was next, followed by his statue worthy biceps, made to fuck and fight. That torso turned into strong lean shoulders and his back. Which she was most definitely going to pay extra attention to later.

Then finally she returned to his cock. She leaned forward and placed a tiny peck to his head. It was probably the only time she had ever felt heat coming off his body.  
“Bloody hell” He hissed “Again”  
So she did. Little kisses again and again and again until his hips were arcing towards her begging for entry. She switched from pecks to flicks of her tongue, swiping at him and collecting any of his beading essence she could.  
“Christ! So goddamn hot. Scalding me precious. Don't let go yet” He ground out

Just the tip of him almost filled her mouth. He was so swollen with borrowed blood, hot and pulsing against her tongue. She slowly sucked him in and out, taking him into her enclosed fingers, keeping a tight hold of him like he asked.  
“ 's it luv” He moaned “So good”

She grinned around him. She liked hearing the rewarding tone of his voice. It encouraged her to do more. She experimented with the amount of pressure she used, alternating between long hard sucks and short fast ones, trying to gauge which one he preferred. And all the while he was leaking into her, and she savored every bit of him. She wanted more. Wanted to take as much as she could from him,

There was shifting above her and then his hand was inches from her mouth as he wrapped his hand around his base. She pulled away from him and kissed his knuckles sweetly as he did so.  
“Let go then sweet” He crooned. “Changin it up a bit”

She did as he asked, feeling his prick surge in her mouth as she released it from his constrictive hold.  
“Uggh” He groaned, and she wasn't sure if it was in pain or pleasure or both. And she couldn't wait anymore. She pulled him back into her mouth, tongue sliding against his underside. His thick cooling column quickly filled the tiny cavern of his mouth and she found she could barely take much of him in.

“Oh Buffy. Sweet Buffy. Bleeding hell....” He whined, watching her through hooded eyes.

She swirled her tongue around his head, flicking at the sensitive frenulum and occasionally teasing his slit, hoping to taste more of him. She drew him in best she could, slow and soft, nursing him, worshiping the way he felt and trying to manage more of his generous length. But she found she couldn't, not laying like this. As comfortable as she was pillowed against his thigh, she had to switch this up. That and having her arm trapped under his muscled leg wasn't doing him any favors. She could do so much for him with a second hand.  
She maneuvered them so that she was settled between his knees, bonus points for doing it without having to take her mouth off him. He seemed to like it too because he gave her an honest to goodness smile. She was starting to get addicted to them. She was getting addicted to a lot of things from him that she never got to experience with him. The smiles, the laughs, and oh god the kisses. The hungry and the desperate, the sweet and savory. Nothing was more addicting then his kisses.

“That was bloody brilliant luv. You fancy suckin' me that much that you couldn't let me go?” He questioned. She didn't fail to pick up the coalescence of emotions behind his tone; anxiety, longing, ambiguity, hope, asperity...love. It never ceased to amaze her how...human he really was, baring so many facets to her at once with everything he did. He was furlongs ahead of Angel in that department. It made her so bitter with herself that shed failed to notice his emotional complexity when Mr. Tall Dark and Forehead seemed to display only a few.

She popped him out, favoring him with a long lick as she did so.  
“I really do” Making her voice as sultry as possible.

“Soddin vixen you are”

She returned to him, making a show of it. She took him in lazily, descending upon him, making use of her clever little tongue. She arced her back earthwards, pushing her ass up and wiggling around as she did so. The result was a long rasping groan and she felt his hand start to pump himself. With a free hand, she pushed him his hand back down to his base and held it in place with her own, squeezing tightly. He let out a strangled noise somewhere between a sob and moan muttering out unintelligible words.

Well....that was hot. Who knew she'd be able to reduce the man proficient in the English language, the Queen's language as he so loved to point out, to a mess of syllables and gasps? She was enraptured with the feeling she got as their hands entwined together around the thick base of him. Again, he offered her total control over him, allowing her to do as she pleased, totally trusting her. Trust. Something hard to gain and so easily lost and he gave it to her so willingly.

She would show him, one day soon she hoped, how much she trusted him. But for now, she was still hell bent on making this the best night of his life. She greedily took him down, trying to force as much of him in as she could, but had difficulties past the first few inches. She tried opening her mouth more and relaxing her throat like she had read about in magazines, but nothing seemed to work. They failed to tell teach how to take a man whose cock needed two hands to work properly and was so thick around she could just barely touch her index finger and thumb together when grasping him. He didn't seem to care what she could and couldn't do. He was still moaning beneath her with every bob of her head, every slow dip she made down his engorged flesh. But she felt dissatisfied with herself, not being able to do something. It made her feel powerless and she hated that feeling more than anything. Those helpless moments.... finding out she was prophesied to die, her mom’s death, being kicked out of her own home, watching her lover burn for her, for the world's safety....all such soul wrenching moments.

She must have unconsciously slowed her pace, her troubled past impeding her ability to multitask because he stopped flexing his hips into her altogether.  
“Something wrong pet...?” His voice husky but filled with concern.

The urge to lie came rearing back, to take it on alone, like she used to... but she wasn't alone anymore. She didn't have to do it all by herself any longer. He was here, alive and with her. Friends, partners, lovers, equals.  
“I um...” God this was hard. Even though she knew he wouldn't laugh, it was still embarrassing, and she wasn't used to being able to talk so openly to someone about the sex they were having. “I can't...I'm having trouble...” She murmured, eyes downcast, staring at the sheets between his legs “YourtoobigandI'mnothappyicantdoit” The words coming out all in a slew. There she'd said it. 

But he said nothing to make her feel bad, in fact, he did the opposite. “Want it all do you?” He smirked. “S okay pet, we'll take it slow. Doesn't have to be all tonight. Don't think I'm gonna soddin last much longer, even if you've got me in a death grip” His eyes gesturing to their combined hands.  
“Okay” She agreed, whispering silently and returning to her previous position. She suckled him in, this time using her free hand to cup his balls, kneading them at the same time. She created a rhythm, in and out, humming along his length as she once again tried to work her way down, loving the way his sack had tightened up close to his body, making it easier to fondle.  
His hips moved in complimenting strokes to her mouth, shallow and gentle he thrust languorously into her willing mouth all the while purring beneath her.

“Breath luv” He instructed “Relax your whole body, not just your throat. Not gonna hurt you” He cooed. His tone tugged at her heart. Such tenderness under that rough bad boy exterior. She willed herself to relax, knowing indeed that he wasn't going to force her into anything. “Gonna go slowly. Squeeze me hard if it’s too much. She nodded and moved with him, feeling him disappear more and more with each short thrust. He continued like this for a while and she was grateful because she could feel him sliding further than she had taken him before. Like usual, he knew when she was starting to get overwhelmed or when she wanted to try for more, reading her like he had a Buffy instruction manual.

“That's a girl” He murmured, threading his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp. She felt so good. She was so wet and wanting for him, yet she found the most intense pleasure in seeing him find his. Finally, after copious amounts of tender rocking and getting used to the feeling of him so deep in the back of her throat, learning to breath around him and working her gag reflex (never had to work that one before) she felt him just barely touch the back of her throat. Her body tried to reject him, although she didn't want to and she squeezed both his base and testicles hard.

He grunted under her but pulled out immediately, allowing her to breath.   
“Good girl” He praised “Well done”  
She felt herself blush but beamed with the encouragement. She could definitely get used to this. It made her want to keep doing it. She looked him dead in the eye, cobalt eyes staring intensely into her own green ones.  
“So bloody beautiful you are. Plush little lips wrapped around me...” And it sounded like he was struggling. He started to pant heavily, and she felt the hand that was entwined with hers grip himself tighter, causing his prick to jump and bob.

“ 'M so close luv. Gonna pop if I let go” His voice strained as he desperately held off. “Been so good sweet girl. Do one more thing for me pet?” He asked and how could she deny him. She was entranced by the desperation, the ragged near sob of his voice. She felt herself dripping at the prospect of looking him in the eye and really seeing him cum for the first time. Lost to pleasure.

“Let go here pet” He spoke wiggling their scar entwined fingers and she did, feeling the loss of his fingers “Grab em tight” He gestured his lonely testicles. She complied, rolling them in her hand before tightening little fingers around him. Slowly, he guided her down past his cock and balls, slipping her other hand down under his thigh and between his tight ass cheeks, her fingers brushing his puckered hole. She raised her gaze to him with a look she knew conveyed confusion and shock.  
“Don't have to...” He mumbled.

“It'll make you feel good?” She questioned, breathing heavy, unsure of what do.... had never....well she never did anything like this herself...let alone have a man ask her for it willingly. The suggestion alone would have had Riley scared silly. But Spike was so much more well versed in everything...His experience was both daunting and extremely sexy, knowing she had a partner who'd explored and probably enjoyed most sexual outlets.  
“Yeah pet” He breathed. “Real good”

“O..okay” She agreed sheepishly. “Wh..what do I do?”

He took her hand by the wrist and quickly brought it back up, leaning forward and harshly sucking her index and middle finger into his mouth. She in took a sharp breath, feeling his devilish tongue flick and swirl around them, coating them. She met his gaze, his pupils blown wide as he moaned around her fingers. Fuck how she had missed that tongue. She couldn't wait to feel it against her, inside her again. She gasped in shock when she felt his teeth graze the pads and she suddenly wished for more than just his human teeth. Oh god where had that come from? But then he released them and quickly pulled them back down to their previous location.

“Can just push in luv. No need to worry bout me” His chest heaved, and he guided her. This was very much with the new but considering he'd pretty much begged her for it, she felt empowered to give it to him. She brushed against him again, feeling perplexed about the strange texture of the skin and the way that as she slid her coated fingers into him, he sucked her in and tightened around her. She hadn’t even done this for herself, let alone another person. His head was thrown back as she entered, and she shoved down that uncomfortable feeling of knowing where her fingers, turning off that part of her brain. She just focused on pleasing him, and by the way his chest was heaving with unneeded breath, she'd say he was enjoying it.  
He whimpered as her fingers inched in and then she felt something swollen and hard within him. And as soon as she felt brushed it, he let out a howling moan, it was like instinct took over. She gently alternated between tapping lighting and using small circular motions against it.

He was panting so hard it sounded like he was going to hyperventilate and keened when she made a particularly intense brush. He was positively a mess underneath her, head back, beautiful throat exposed, hips spasming, which caused her fingers to bump more violently against him. She looked down between his legs to the hand wrapped around his tortured prick, knuckles white with how hard he was gripping.  
“Oh god Spike” She whispered, positively enthralled with the sexually thrumming, blissed out vampire beneath her.

“So good” He cried “Jus' like that. Jus' like that” Chanting over and over. Then it all happened at once. She brushed against his hard-aching gland, roughly squeezed his balls, removed his hand from around his base and dipped her head to catch his head in her mouth. In those few seconds, her gaze met his, his eyes baring down into his, black with all-consuming lust, catching the moment of speechless euphoria and how he slipped into game face for a split second before it melted back to his beautiful human face and he exploded beneath her.  
“Buffy!” He roared as he came. Rope and rope of tepid cum spurt from him as he spasmed into her, incomprehensible words coming from his mouth in a mix of long drawn out moans and gasping breaths.  
He filled her mouth and she desperately tried to swallow him down, but she couldn't keep up with the amount he was pumping out and it came to the point where he leaked out of the corners of her mouth, dripping down below. She'd never forget this moment. The image of him cumming below her was burned into her memory.  
“Oh god. Oh, soddin god” He wailed “Fuckin Christ”

Eventually it lessened and he fell back against the bed, completely and utterly spent. His gasped for superfluous air, muscles quaking, eyes rolling back, whimpering still. What hadn't leaked from her mouth she swallowed. Savoring him as she drank him down and she removed her fingers from him, finding that she had to catch her breath too.

“Holy fuck” She whispered, pillowing her head in the curve of his hip, his skin surprisingly still cool feeling amazing against her flushed skin. If she had known bringing him to that kind of pleasure would feel this amazing, she wouldn't have hesitated to give it to him over and over again. She barely heard him start to speak over the blood pounding in her ears

“Christ....” He moaned “Never come that hard in my soddin life. Thought I was burnin up. My little nymph. My fuckin sun goddess you are. Come here lamb. Please”

Her face lit up at his pet name. That was the one! From the last night.... He caught her smile and grinned back at her  
“Wot?” He asked

“You called me lamb...I like it” She mumbled, crawling up from between his legs, lowering herself against him, laying flush against his chest, cami clad breasts against him and hips flush with his. He was still hard beneath her and if she wasn't already well aware of vampire stamina it would have completely floored her that he was so hard after he'd come so hard.

He smiled back, wrapping his heavy right arm around her waist and threading his left through her golden hair.  
“My little lamb” He murmured. “My goddess, my sweet, my lover, my Buffy” He sighed in pure pleasure, pure happiness. “Never gonna let you go. Stay with you forever, right here. Preferably naked” He commented, throwing her a suggestive look.

“Okay” She giggled “We gotta make up for lost time”

His eyes widened and he hummed in pleasure, chest rumbling beneath her. “Give us a minute pet and I'll be good to go. No way I'm not taking care of you. Can smell you, taste you in the air, gonna bury myself in that divine cunt of yours. Won’t be able to walk when I'm through with you”

She flushed knowing that he well and truly meant it.  
“I need a minute too” She exhaled. “I'm still trying to catch my breath”

“And no wonder. Christ pet you were wonderful. That was a soddin gift it was. Best night of my life. I'll treasure that for the rest for as long as I walk”

“Really?” She questioned tentatively “You’re not just saying that? I mean you've been around for...”

“One hundred and fifty-one years. And yes. Mean every word. Won’t lie to you”

“When were you...”

“Turned?” His scarred eyebrow arcing “Wot...can't do your math’s?”

She huffed “I so can...I just...I can't think right now...”

“You...can't think?” He balked “I think you buggered my brain up with that last bit pet. Blood wasn't exactly running up there. Christ Buffy...”  
She flushed a deep crimson. “You can't lose brain cells. And it felt good for me too. I missed us...”

“Bloody right. Fuckin revelation that was. God I'll never forget that” He sighed in utter bliss and she beamed at the look on his face, knowing that she had put it there and she let him bask in it for a moment.

“So....” She prompted after several moments of laying atop him in silence. For once, he wasn't even breathing. She found it odd that he wasn't when she was so used to his humanoid behaviors, but she could also never forget what he was. If the cool skin, yellow eyes and tendency to get bumpy in the face weren't clue ins, the not breathing definitely would.

“1853 luv. London”

She mouthed the year...one hundred and fifty-one. How different things must have been, the things he'd seen. The history that he had lived through and the person he started as and the one he'd become. She wondered if he really was a bad boy from the start.

“Tell me about it?” She asked

“Get me my fags and I'll tell you whatever you want”

“No” She flat out refused

“No?”

“Nooope” She spoke, drawing out the word and popping the p. “Don't want to get up. I'm pretty comfy laying on my vamp pillow”  
“Fiery little thing isn’t you” He smirked

“You love it”

“Hmm. More than you know” He mumbled reverently, smiling at her and caressed the dip of her lower back. She gazed into those dynamic blue eyes of his. The deep lustful cobalt had faded away to his usual steel gray. She was mesmerized by the swirling of emotions there.  
“Love you” She murmured, bending down to kiss his sweet full lips. He sighed in contentment and began to purr beneath her as he eagerly met her, returning her kisses with fervor.  
“Love you too” He replied pressing more kisses to her.

“Does that mean you won’t tell me anything?” She reluctantly broke away. Kissing him was becoming her new favorite thing.

He smirked at her “Shouldn't. But I don't think I can so no to you anymore”

“Except your hard limits, right? Can you tell me about those?”

He sighed “Your questions are all over the bloody place Slayer. Pick a bloody topic and stay with it. Or else I risk you damaging my brain further”

“You can't lose brain cells” She retorted.  
“Really comin at me today aren't you?”

“I have so many questions though!” She dramatically exclaimed

“Got more than enough time to answer them all. I've sodden forever. Now...pick your poison.”   
She went to protest but cut her off “And stick with it...”

“Fine...Jerk” She whispered under her breath

“Oi. I can bloody still hear you. Watch it with those” He said with a growl

“Whatever you say fang face” She fired with a sly smile

“I will not be insulted in my own home Summers” He growled

She wrinkled her nose and looked around at the parts of the apartment she could see from this position.  
“I don't like it at all. It’s not you”

“Yeah well...don't have to time to rummage about and look for things to spruce the place up like I did back in Sunnydale. And it was given to me just a few months ago by someone I don't completely trust. I'm never here. Just doesn't feel like home” He added on a solemn note.

“Well your right about that. The only thing here that's good about this place is that” She said gesturing to the vinyl player. “That's the one thing here that says Spike lives here”

“Or just some fella who fancies Vinyl’s over all your modern shite” He spat with disdain. “But I gather you like that piece yeah? Seen that you used it while I was forced to play patient”

She nodded “Yeah I did. I hope you’re not mad. I really liked that record”

“No sweetling. Not mad at all. Glad you managed to sort out how it worked. Was a good choice, Morrissey. What made you choose him?”

She shrugged “Mainly the cover. I don't know anything about him or any of the music you like to listen to save for its usually.... loud...and angry. But the guy on the cover...he looked a lot like you with the dark shadowed eyes and wicked smile. It reminded me of you when you first came to Sunnydale. And then he sounded like you...English I mean”

“Not all us Brits sound the same you know, just cause you Yanks lump us all together. Though I supposed there are worse things than being compared to Morrissey.”

“Well I was gonna say he sounded a little like you and Giles together” She muttered sheepishly

His tongue clicked against his teeth. “And innit convenient that were the only English boy's you know”

“Not true! I lived in London for a little while...after....” She trailed off  
After you were gone. After I had literally nothing tying me to California and no reasoning to stay in the country at all.  
“And besides.... you and Giles don't sound anything alike. Why is that?”  
“Different time. Different region. Plus your watcher is all prim and proper”

“You’re from the 1850's...I thought everyone was prim and proper with your...petticoats and...frocks and....oh I dunno what it was like! That's why I'm asking” She whined in desperation. “Were you like a delinquent or something?”

He sighed heavily and she recognized that faraway look he had in his eyes. Like he was dredging up things that he didn't want to. Past histories that had meant to stay buried. She got the feeling she was touching on a very sensitive subject.  
“Not exactly” He finally replied after a long moment of breathless silence.

She was silent too. Maybe she should reconsider their talk for later   
“You don't have to...”

But he cut her off  
“No pet. No more secrets. You've every right” He paused with a forlorn look in his eyes. “Just afraid once you hear more of my past that all of this” He spoke gesturing between them “Is gonna go away. Already lost you more than once. Can't lose you again”

She frowned and reached out to cup his face.  
“You won’t. Please believe me when I say that. Our pasts...everything we've already been through, that's all the worst of it”

If I can forgive you for what happened last summer. For what happened in that bathroom, what I pushed you to do.... I think I can forgive you for anything  
“Buffy our pasts are a hell of a lot different. Not saying it’s easy for me to forgive you for everything you did to me. I know I was bein used. Hurt o’course, but I forgave you for that a long time ago and you've done nothing else in your life that remotely counts as a sin. I've killed tens of thousands. I'm a vampire and bloody well enthused about it. I've done.... a lot of awful things. And I don't deserve to get absolved for everything I've done...especially from you.

She sighed. “I'm not gonna say that none of that matters to me...because it does. That's a lot of death...and your right, it doesn't sit well with me. And I may not have known you back then. I've only known you for wow.... less than ten years, but I feel like I know that you've changed so much since then. Don't get me wrong Spike. I know your still lethal. Know that you’re a vampire. I won't ever be able to forget that, the tinglies in my spine that say your around make sure of that. But being a vampire is just what you are...not who you are. And who you are is my vampire lover that I've been holding onto the memory of for over six months. I didn't think I would ever get over you...and I didn't want to”

“Fuckin hell Buffy. I'll never get tired of you saying that” He said, his voice ragged as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Me either”

“I can't lay here much longer baskin in the smell of your sweet cunny knowing all that honey's bein wasted. You get three questions. Then your all mine” He spoke with a dark predatory tone, curling his lip over his teeth.

She sucked in a breath. It was tempting to just let him do as he wanted and skip the questions for now. But she liked the changes in pace. Hot and heavy, slow and sweet, back and forth like a sexy tennis match, it heated her up and then cooled her down. And how was she supposed to pick just three questions?

I want to know so much about you...where you came from. How you grew up. Your likes and dislikes. I even wanna know about your time with the Scourge. Where do I start!?

“What was your family like?” She asked. Deciding to start in the past.

“Well....Darla was...”

“Not that family” She frowned, lightly smacking him against the shoulders. “I meant...your human family”

He looked at her hesitantly but then began speaking. “Don't remember much. Can't remember what happen to my da. Think he was died when I was a lad. War or something...remember mum cryin”

“You grew up without a dad too....”

“Yeah...suppose I did and...my mum. Well I guess the reason I felt so close to Joyce, why I felt so awful about her getting sick was because my mum was too”

“She was...sick?” Buffy asked stunned. Spike's mom was sick too? They both lost their fathers and both of their mom's had been sick? Then he understood...everything. The emotions she felt knowing her mom was sick and how lonely she felt because her dad had left her. Perhaps this was one of the reasons she felt so connected to him.

“Consumption...wreaked havoc back then. The antibiotic to cure it wasn't created until 1946, long after she was gone”

“That how she died?”

He hesitated “No...and that's two questions”  
Her brow furrowed. “That's not fair. They're like little sub questions of my main question”

“This'll take soddin forever then...” He whined, staring hungrily down her body. “I've got other things on my mind”

“No, it won’t. Less arguey more answery” Though she was starting to get antsy too. She could feel him, hard and wanting trapped beneath her, splayed across her abdomen, twitching against her toned tummy.

He sighed heavily, leaning his head back, “Gonna drive me barmy” He muttered under his breath  
“Consumption was killing her, but not what she died from. It was me that did her in” And she heard him stop breathing. She held her breath too. Killed his mom? It made her more aware of the tingling in her spine that announced his presence as a vampire. Made her heart race just a bit more.

“But not for the reason you’re probably thinking” He continued. “She was sick....and I'd just be turned. Was ecstatic for all the power I was given, the invulnerability, the strength! I didn't want her to suffer anymore. Not when I'd just gained eternal youth and life. Vamps can't get sick. We don't get infections or contract diseases. I knew if I turned her...that she wouldn't be sick anymore. She was my mum. Before Dru, I hadn't known any other women. I was her only son....”

By this time, the harsh features that had graced her face moments before, ready to come down on him for killing his own mother melted away. He'd killed her out of love. Trying to ease her suffering. God how fucked up was all of this?  
“But she wasn't the same after” He gritted out bitterly. “Wasn't my mum anymore. The demon had taken over. Said some nasty things...about me, about her. I couldn't bear the thing she had become. So... I staked her. Killed her twice” She heard him intake a shaky breath and caught the sound of him sniffing heavily. It was sweet to see that underneath all the black and leather that he was just as sensitive and romantic as he was harsh and crude.   
“I'm sorry” She finally said, not sure exactly what to say to him that wouldn't make it worse. “I'm sorry she was sick and that you had to go through that. Thank you for sharing”

She wondered if this was the reason why his conception of love was so strong? It sounded like he had always been this loving and devoted to the women around him.

He gave her a watery half smile. “Welcome pet. You got two questions”

“Did you have any siblings?” She asked and he shook his head  
“Nope. Only child.”

“Well...we had that in common. Before ancient Czech monks transformed some bright green swirly energy into my sister...”

“How is the Bit?”

She rolled her eyes “Still an annoying teenager. All the attitude and the high pitch squeals and door slamming with the wonderful new additions of senioritis, actual girlfriends and Italian boys constantly beating down the door”

“Want me to scare em away?” He said with a playful growl, flashing a little fang and she burst out laughing.  
“Absolutely. I can't keep them away....and obviously I'm worried about her...I haven't exactly had 'the talk' with her”

He cocked a scarred eyebrow  
“The...what?”

“You know...birds and bees...” But from the look of his dumbfounded face she knew that he didn't get it. He was too old.

“Sex Spike...” She deadpanned

He frowned, something glinting in his eye. “Is Dawn...?”

“Geez Spike I don't know! I don't exactly ask her about that kind of stuff. I know that I need to know but I don't want to know my sister's thinking like that”

“Could tell you that too” He mumbled nervously

She just stared at him... “Lemme guess. You can smell that too...?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Well...yeah. Hormone composition is a little different. Innocents just have a different kind of smell. Sweet's the closest thing I could compare it to. I recon it’s the reason lots of vamps are attracted to it. Why the lot of us get the reputation for liking virgins and baby's” He explained

She scrunched her nose at the comparison. She couldn't believe she was having this composition with him. One did not discuss the finer points of the blood composition of a victim with a vampire.  
“And before you bop me on the nose. It was not my gig. Never been a fan of sweets” He muttered

As....discomforting the subject was, she felt like she was getting more information about him as a person and the strange vampire he had become. Always turning the stereotype of vampires on its head. And hey look, he didn't like killing innocent children or virgins and he didn't like sweets! So...

“What do you like?” She asked, the question out of her lips before she could stop herself and she felt him go rigid under her.

“That's your third question” He replied flatly

“I..I know” Her body tense in anticipating the answer of her question and what was going to inevitably happen after he'd given an answer.

“You want to know my blood preference?” He asked sounding dazed and confused blinking rapidly and when she didn't protest, he continued. “Uhh...A-Neg mostly. But I've always liked my food on the spicy side...prolly because English food is so.... bland”

“I remember you mentioning putting something in your blood in Sunnydale to make it spicy” She recalled, surprisingly calm about the whole situation, like talking to her vampire lover about his blood preferences was a completely normal topic. And... maybe it was.

“Burba weed” He smiled weakly. “Can't believe you remembered”

“It’s hard to forget things that involve you. I replayed a lot of memories over the past six months, just to make it feel like you were still with me”

His arms tightened around her. “Oh pet. I'm so sorry” He mumbled, burying her face against his neck and he shivered under her when she kissed him there.

“Don't be.... but if you don't like sweet...why is it that you like...”

“Three questions are up sweetheart” His gaze turned to a smoldering gaze “Believe it's my turn now” His voice low and husky and he grinned wolfishly.  
“Gonna gobble you up now. Can't stop me. Gonna ravish your pretty cunt until you black out and can't move” She gasped at the look in his eyes and flushed at his crass words, unbelievably turned on. “Then I'm gonna fuck you until you can't walk”

“One change?” She gasped as he surged forward. Grabbing her by the back of the head and holding tight to her waist. He used his powerful abdominal muscles to flip them so she was laying supine under him now, cradling her head as she tumbled back. When her head was at the foot of the bed, he pulled her by the ankles back to the center of the bed and loomed over her, that predatory look in his gaze.  
“What’s that luv” He growled, trailing a lithe finger up her ankle, her shin, her knee, higher and higher until that pointed finger drew an invisible line of fire over the seam of her.

“I want to make love.... not fuck” she breathed out and there was that completely flabbergasted look on his face again. She was enjoying that. She didn't fail to notice the wetness behind his eyes either.  
“I want it to be...different” She explained “I know I never let you before and I....well I want that with you”  
“Christ Buffy....of course. God yes” and she just grinned at him.

“But first things first” He said, breaking out of his stupefied state. “Want you in my mouth, cumming against my tongue, fuckin my fingers. Gods have I missed this” He groaned. “Best help me get you out of your skivvies before I rip em off. Need your tits, your cunt”

“God Spike” She moaned, arching her back to allow him access to help him pull off her cami. He wasted no time removing the offending garment. Pulling it up and over her heated flesh, all the while mirroring her previous actions, kissing her skin, leaving trails of cool kisses in his wake. The contrast in temperatures had her squirming under him. When he pulled it up enough to release her tiny breasts, she felt the purr that vibrated his body turn to a predatory growl. Her eyes glazed over as he licked his lips, staring at her like she was the last fucking supper.

“So gorgeous you are. And these are mine, Pretty little things.” His growl deepening as she panted heavily at the possessiveness over her. He cupped them both messaging her sun kissed flesh and she arced into his dexterous fingers.  
He bent to her, kiss his way up from her toned stomach, over her hips and up her curvy sides. Tiny little kisses that sent jolts of electricity across her body, creating ley lines that all connected to her clit. She throbbed under him, could feel that her little button was stiff and aching. The friction of her swollen lips and soaked panties only adding to the needy feeling. He pulled up the fabric the rest of the way, up and over, tossing it away.

She moaned in anticipation as his lips hovered over one of her little buds, cool breath falling on it in short puffs. She tried pushing them up into his willing mouth, but he made no move to take them. When she cracked an eye to look at what the holdup was, about to scold him for being a tease (although she definitely had no right after what she had done to him) she found him to be staring at her chest with a look of...fear? Solemnness that had him frozen. She tried to follow his gaze; her neck didn't exactly bend that way but then she realized what he was looking at.

“...How?” His voice soft. He pulled his lips away from her now, strong fingers reaching out to brush the white knotted scar from where Warren's bullet had entered her body.

“Bullet” She whispered “Told you I died a third time”

“Died...Buffy...Christ what happened? When the bloody hell did this happen?”

“It was right after.... you left” She exhaled, hating the words as they came out of her mouth. God why was this so hard? They'd agreed to let the past be the past and that it didn't define them anymore. But everything always seemed to come back to it. She hoped that he understood that too, but he was so emotional about everything. When she looked into his eyes again, she saw the awful dawn of understanding behind those haunted ghost blue gray eyes.

“Right after I almost raped you. That's it.... innit? 'S why you can't bring yourself to say it” He sighed heavily, drawing himself away from her, leaving her half naked body sprawled down his bed and he sat back against the headboard. “Soddin hell” His eyes shut in defeat. “How can you even bare to look at me after that? Knowing what I did to you? How I hurt you” His voice taking on a tone similar to the one she'd heard in the church when he'd confessed to her about his acquired soul. Sorrowful and painful.

“We agreed to keep the past in the past Spike. I don't want to keep bringing this up”

“Don't want to? Or can't?” He ground out, his jaw tense and opened blazing eyes.

“Spike” She sighed in exasperation. “What happened that day was...horrible” She didn't miss the way he flinched. “But I want to move on from it. I don't want to let that drive a wedge between us again. I almost lost you once because of it. I didn't think you were coming back after that”

“Told you before Buffy that I loved you, that I'd do anything for you. I'd always come back for you. Even if my quest for the soul didn't pan out, I would have been back. I would have figured something else out”

“I know you would have” She smiled sweetly. If it was one thing Spike was, it was loyal. He kept the promises he made...well all except that one, but it had worked out in her favor. “Please...let’s not talk about it right now. I promise we can delve into it another day” She pleaded. “Just want to love you now”

That signature smirk of his crept back to his face “I believe it’s still my turn” But he still sounded...off. He took her in from the other side of the bed for a good long while. She noticed that his gaze never left the scar above her heart. Then he started crawling towards her, cautiously, nudging between her knees again.  
“Some wanker shot you?” He finally asked after a long period of silence, his voice shaky. “Killed you?”

She nodded “I was only dead for a minute or so. Willow saved me.”

“Thank Christ for Red” He reached out tentatively and brushed cold fingertips against the scar. “Who?” He ground out.

“Does it matter? He's dead now. Has been for almost a year now”

“It matters...was it someone I knew?”

She hesitated.

“Buffy...” His voice a warning tone

“It was Warren Mears...” She mumbled.

She watched as the anger in his eyes flared at the recognition of the name and then the sadness that overtook that anger.

“Fuck Buffy....I did business with that pratt twice...If I'd have known he was gonna....”

“You wouldn't have been able to do anything to him Spike. You still had the chip...and besides. Willow beat you to it” She grimaced, trying to forget about the image her friends had relayed to her.

“Red killed him...? What the bloody hell did I miss?”

“I stopped his stupid plan. He was angry and desperate. He got pissed and came at me in the middle of the day, pulled out the gun and fired it until it was empty. His aim sucked though. I got shot once, went into shock, died at the hospital and Willow saved me...but...” She trailed off thinking about sweet Tara. Tara hadn't deserved any of this. She was innocent and supportive to the entire group of Scoobies. Another person she'd helped kill.

“What...?” He prodded

“One of his stray bullets...well it hit Tara. Killed her instantly. Willow came and saved me and then she went on a warpath. Killed Warren, in a not so pleasant way I may add. Tried to kill Andrew and Jonathon. And then us...”

“Was wondering what happened to Glinda. Poor thing. Liked that one. Was always kind to me when no one else was...and Red? Never would have thought it of her”

“No one did. She was different after Tara's death” Buffy agreed. “The black magics took her over. She almost destroyed the world. Tried to resurrect some ancient death god's temple. Xander got to her though, talked her down. Saved us all when no one else could get through to her. Its why she went away with Giles for a while”

“I missed quite a bit” He muttered his tone defeated

“Doesn't matter. Your here now. That's what matters”

“I wasn't there when you needed me. I could have protected you. Vamps are bullet sponges. Can't kill us unless you shoot us in the heart. And if the pillocks aim was as shoddy as you say..”

“I don't need protecting” She growled

“Gods of course not Buffy, you’re the strongest person I know. I just meant I could have been there to back you up...”

“It was outside Spike, in the middle of the afternoon. Sun blazing”

“And when has that stopped me before?” He barked

“Spike” She warned

“Christ Buffy, you know that if anything happened to you, something where we couldn't bring you back or you were just...gone, I'd be dust anyways. I'd do everything to get you back. Exhaust every soddin option. I'd happily give up my bloody soul if that's what it came to, I'd give up my life. Anything to get you back. But if couldn't...I'll meet the sun the next day. Can't live without you anymore. Not now that I know what it’s like to feel your love. Nothing. No one... is ever going to compare”

Tears pricked in her eyes.  
“I can't live without you either. Not anymore. It was hard enough for six months. I don't think I could do the rest of my life. I hate hearing it come from you though, your so...”

“Weak” He hissed, cutting her off “I'm bloody weak. Have been for a while now. No Slayer. You’re the one whose strong here. It’s always been you. And I know you. You'd be miserable for a long time, but I know you can't leave the Bit. But me? I've got nothing. No one”

“You have Dawn too. Dawnie loves you too. And if something happened to me...I need you to be there for her”

He gave her a halfhearted smile. “Of course, I'd be...for you, for her. Love both of you barmy Summers girls”

“And I mean...if something happened to be...there's always Drusilla right?” She asked, not fond of bringing up his crazy ex but he'd been in love with her for so long, it couldn't be something he just forgot about. Some cold comfort he could always go back to.

He pulled away, unwrapping lithe naked limbs from her, a dark look in his eyes.

“Don't want Dru” He growled “Only you”

“Even if I'm gone? You were in love with her for so long. Your saying you wouldn't want to go back to her if you could?”

He sighed heavily “Yeah…I loved Dru. She was my whole world since the day I met her, the day I was turned. But that part of me is over luv. I can feel her still, know she's out there, same as Peaches. I'll always be connected to her, she's my sire. My family. But that's it now Slayer. I haven't felt anything for Dru for a long time now. We wouldn't get along like we did back then. Too much has changed. She doesn't want anything to do with me now. Her doggie...” He said with a vicious growl unlike she had ever seen before “has been lost to the sunshine for a long time now. I taste like ashes I do” He spat bitterly.

She got the sense that a nerve was struck there, but she wasn't sure what it was about. It would have to be one of her questions for him eventually.  
“Well…you kinda do” She said trying to lighten the mood. And at his not so amused gaze she shrunk. “I mean...I like it...You taste like you”

Then suddenly, staying true to his mercurial nature, the anger on his face drained away and was replaced by his signature sinful smirk.  
“Taste good, do I?” And he rolled his tongue over his teeth, leering at her, cocky as ever.

“Yeah” She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Like whiskey...and cigarettes.

“Sounds like I'm a bad, bad man” He rumbled prowling towards her again. Obviously his swagger had been restored.

“The baddest baby” She smirked, attempting his signature move. She loved watching him become consumed by lust. His pupils blew up, eyes taking on a dangerous blue black.

“Christ. Can't wait anymore” He groaned pushing her back against the bed, kneeling before her. “Now I know your trying to drive me barmy” He dove down and captured her lips in a bruising kiss. Passionate and searing he mauled her lips, claiming them. She moaned under him, helpless but to just withstand the fiend pressed against her. When she needed air, he broke away from her with a groan.

“Promise we'll be soft and sweet later luv, just like you want. But I can't promise to hold back now. Gonna have my wicked way with your gorgeous little body. Best lay back and relax sweet. Not gonna let you go anytime soon”

She couldn't find the words to respond so she just nodded and received a wicked grin from him in return. And just like he promised, he descended on her, holding back nothing. He dove back to her lips, and she struggled to keep up with his demand. His cool tongue invaded the heat of her mouth and he rumbled above her. His fervent kisses coupled with the furious assault of his tongue against hers left her dizzy. But she was the Slayer, and this was just another kind of battle, one that she wouldn't let him just win. Although this maybe be the one kind of battle where he had the advantage over her.

He slipped a hand under the back of her head and tipped her head back, and his kisses became deeper. She felt him force his tongue delve further and she clenched her thighs together when she thought about the other places where his tongue could be shoved in just as deep. He groaned and panted heavily against her and felt his left hand slide down the side of her arm, her side, her hip. He followed the line dividing her torso and thigh and unceremoniously slide two fingers down the front of her soaked panties, easily finding the line of her slit and her little not so hidden bud.

“Spike!” She cried out, squirming under him, shifting her hips in an attempt to rub herself further against him. He held his fingers in place and she wantonly thrust her hips and struck against his fingers again and again and again. “Uggh” She whined and screwed her eyes shut knowing how pathetic she looked, writhing against him, but this had been building up for so long. Teasing him, making him wait for his pleasure, seeing him come not once but twice just by playing with him, it had wound her up in the best way possible. Her clit was so hard, so swollen and she wanted release so badly. So she rocked against him, every upward thrust of her hips had her clit bumping against his fingers.

“'S it luv” His voice rich and dark like molasses crooned. “'S it” His lips pressed against her forehead and she felt her whole-body tremble. “I've got you” He whispered, tongue tracing against the shell of her ear, nibbling at her lobe. He kissed down her jaw, her chin and down the exposed column of her throat. He lavished her neck with kisses, hot and open mouthed, tongue flicking against her skin. Once, she would have been terrified, having a vamp at her throat. Fangs meant death. She'd seen the destructive force that they could wreck. Angel had ripped her flesh when she'd allowed him to feed from her to save his life. But that's what it was right? Feeding? There was nothing pleasurable about that. But the way Spike's lips felt against her neck was anything but scary.  
She entertained the thought of what it would feel like and her breath hitched when she felt blunt human teeth scrape against her pulse point.  
“Spike” She gasped as he then suckled on the tender flesh, ready to beg him for more.

“Oh kitten” He growled, and he pinched her clit roughly and dove for her mouth. She screamed into him, pulsing against the grip of his fingers, hips bucking wildly. Her orgasm hit her full force, and felt like it was never going to end, his fingers still rubbing against the overstimulated flesh.

“Spike please” She whimpered, shifting to get away from the almost unpleasant sensation, but he wouldn't stop, wouldn't let go. He continued to rub her mercilessly through the fabric of her panties, which were in turn, providing a rough friction against her swollen clit and labia.  
Her chest was heaving, breaths coming in harsh pants, skin sweating and flushed and she whimpered below him. She shook beneath him, and the near painful sensation of him stroking her diamond hard bud turned into the fast rise of another orgasm. No way..  
.  
“Spike!” She gasped, her eyes flew open and locked with his, black with lust and solely focused on her.  
“Cum for me kitten” And her whole body shook as it obeyed him. She squealed as it washed over her, back bowing, her muscles trembling. As she arced into him, she felt his lips travel from the hollow of her throat, peppering her with kisses down the center of her body, between her breasts, her stomach, her navel. He removed his hand from behind her head and slid down her body.  
She hadn't even come down fully from the last onslaught of pleasurable waves before she felt his mouth at her cunt, nipping at her through her panties. He suckled on her through them, tongue writhing against her clothed opening  
“Can't...”She breathed. Was this even possible? He'd shown her before during their previous times together that he was more than capable of bringing her such intense pleasures. Often spending hours catering to her before taking his own. She didn't think it was possible to orgasm for this long.  
“Can” He growled “Will”  
“Spike” She mewled, head tossing from side to side. She tried to raise her hips, but he held them down firmly against the bed.  
“Again” He husky voice commanded, and this time nipped at her with blunt teeth. She cried out shrieking with pleasure, that intense feeling of falling over washed over her a third time. Her heart hammered against her chest as she panted so hard it was hard to catch her breath. She was dazed and her head lolled to the side as her body continued to tremble under him. She felt him shift, felt the loss of him at her center for a moment and then her panties were sliding down her legs and no sooner then had he left, he was back. He tugged her forward grabbing her around the hips bringing her up on his folded legs so her head and upper back were flat them and her hips were angled up towards his waiting mouth. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his neck, preventing herself from falling, which was a good thing, because as soon as he did, his mouth was back on her, this time no barrier.  
He licked her hairless flesh in one long stroke of his brilliant tongue, ending with a flick to her clit.  
“Ahh!” She cried out in a semi painful whimper, body shaking, so ready to fall over the edge again.

“Christ your absolutely sodden” He hissed, licking and nipping around her engorged pussy lips, tongue sliding along her drenched folds, along the inside of her lips, always ending with a tap to her clit, keeping her from coming down.  
“Could feast on you for days. Will if you let me. So delicious”

“Spike” Her plea a desperate whisper. “Please” But his tongue continued its assault. Lapping at her folds, sucking her inner lips between his teeth with rough pulls.

“Please what pet?” He teased  
“More” She moaned

“As the lady wishes” He said with a smirk and plunged his tongue within her, plundering her, stroking her walls. Speechless she wailed above him, left victim to his ruthless assault on her. She was hyper aware of the shift of his left hand, lithe fingers sliding between her lips prodding her clit with cool fingertips. He hummed against her, the vibrations sending shivers all over her body. She was overloaded with the sensations, his tongue delving into her at a punishing pace, fingers plucking at her overly sensitive clit and his rock hard cock against the small of her back grinding against her leaving wet streaks against her skin.

His tongue withdrew from her sopping hole and he licked a long trail from her coccyx and back to her opening, tonging her puckered bud along the way. And strangely enough she didn't find it unpleasant, embarrassing maybe, but at the current moment, she could barely remember her name so she couldn't care less.  
“Gonna eat you up. So sweet you are. Your cunny's mine. All mine” He chanted against her

“Yours...please Spike” She sobbed. She was already there again and desperate to fall over. Her muscles were so tense that she feared she'd lose control of them after this. He'd kept her on a painfully blissful never ending high for so long now. 

“Precious girl, my golden goddess, look how you shimmer and shine” He rumbled “Gonna come for me again are you? Such a good girl”

She whimpered below him, words not making it past her throat. All she could focus on was the insistent throbbing between her legs and his slick tongue still abusing her painfully swollen clit. His fingers replaced his tongue at her hole. He coated them with her excessive wetness and pushed them in, immediately thrusting them in and out, curling them within her at the same brutal pace as his tongue. The combination had her coming again, screwing her eyes shut as her body violently shook, clutching around his fingers and more of her arousal gushing out, coating his lips.

“Fuck” He moaned above her, drinking her down as she writhed helplessly against him, unable to control herself any longer. Over the pounding of blood in her head she could hear the slick squelching of his fingers still pumping her and she was vaguely aware that at some point he'd added a third. But she couldn't think straight. All she could do was lie back and let him take her. She'd never felt pleasure akin to this. Maybe it was because she was accepting of it this time, welcoming what he had to offer without the intent to leave when he was done. Oh, she never wanted to leave his damn bed again.

That steady pressure of him sliding in and out of her started to grow and she could feel the building of an entirely different pressure, deep within her.  
“Christ I'll never get tired of this” She heard him growl “So bloody tight, so wet. Can't wait to be buried in you, your cunt's a soddin gift”  
His praises brought a content smile to her face, she weakly tried to grind against him, taking his fingers deeper.  
Her heart was pounding away, and she was certain she was going to overload the poor thing. She could feel her entire body was flush, rosy with rapidly pumping blood and she wondered how he was able to resist. Was it that he didn't want her? For an extremely forward vampire, she'd thought he would have at least asked by now. She expected it of him before he'd gotten his soul. Mind you she probably would have staked him for suggesting it at the time. But he never did, not even then. Not even when their sex was violent and messy did he try and bring his fangs into it. She couldn't even blame it on the chip as many of their tumble's together had resulted in him hurting her a little...or a lot...when she asked him for it....and then blamed him and ran. What if she offered? She thought about the feeling of his human teeth against her throat and shivered. And what if it could be so much better than that?

And this was about more than just her pleasure too, it was for him. She blissfully met the gaze of her vampire lover above her, eyes dark and gleaming back at her as he contentedly groaned and drank from her cunt, full lips making love to her nether lips, treasuring her poor clit with feather light strokes, like she was some kind of rich dessert. Finally, she could see them in a new light, in a way she had never entertained before. She hated herself for not allowing herself to love him sooner, to let him love her in return. She couldn't have back then. She hadn't even loved herself, how could she have been able to love such a sensual man, one so completely dedicated to love like Spike? But she could now, couldn't she? Wanted to. Needed to. She was wet and eager and willing for him, all of him. The demon too. She hadn't been lying when she said she would take care of him too. She loved...and trusted them both, the man and the demon; the light and dark. Her kindred spirit, as she was made of the same as he.

“Something wrong lamb? I losin my touch?” He didn't stop licking her, still drawing tiny spasms from her as he continued to softly manipulate her little bud so she never came down. That beautiful face, trying so hard to hide the look of disappointment on his face, like he was waiting for the ugly words to still come pouring out her mouth, waiting for some sick joke or spell to end.   
“Never” She breathed. “I was thinking”

“So I am losing it” He quipped sardonically

“No dummy. Lemme finish”

“That's the point pet. I can still wring plenty out of you, just watch me” His voice dark and dangerous, crawling over her skin, whispering promises of an endless night.

“Oh..I know you can...and yes...god yes please...” She whimpered, letting herself take a moment to feel his cool tongue against her damp scorching flesh.

He seemed satisfied with her answer, chest subconsciously puffing up in male pride and her heart swelled. Such a vulnerable creature he was, wearing his heart on his sleeve. He was a deep winter apple. The cold protected him, made his skin crisp and hard. But the moment he was plucked, taken and dropped to the ground, he bruised. She was so lost to all of the things going on around her that she hadn't noticed or wanted to believe that about him.

“I..” She started. How did she even go about asking him? She supposed it would be easiest to just come out with it. But she couldn't seem to find the words. “I want...”

“Want what luv My cock? You'll have it...when I'm finished with you. Planning on being here a while”

She groaned. He wasn't making this easier. It felt like a lifetime since she had him last and it wasn't the kind of thing a girl could forget.  
“Yes” She whispered bucking her hips against him, earning a moan of appreciation against her

“Yes. But...I want...”  
He removed his mouth from her and cocked his head in that cute confused way she remembered he gave her after she'd kissed him pretending to be the BuffyBot.  
“What is it sweet? What's rattling around that gorgeous head of yours?”

He was so open and honest, and she wanted desperately to be like that with him. He was starting to teach her about that, but she wasn't quite there. But she wanted to know. Had to know what it felt like when tongue and cock and fang were all buried within her, at all once. So, she decided to just show him, since her words seemed to fail her. She wearily raised her scarred hand, slid it up her body, watching him watch her the whole time as it traveled to where he was still slowly pumping his long fingers within her, still drawing hitched breaths. While he was in mid stroke, fingers withdrawing from her, she grabbed a hold of his wrist. She looked at him and then to his fingers, covered in her, dripping against her heated skin.

Oh god. Was she really doing this? Letting a vamp, even one that she trusted with her life, near her so intimately. Part of her screamed out this was wrong, very very wrong. But as she drew his dew-covered fingers away from her pussy, left unattended for the first time in what seemed like forever and already missing the attention, she didn't fail to notice the look of hunger on his face. She made a show of it, trailing her drowned fingers up her body, dotting both of her nipples, hard and begging for attention and finally, smearing the rest over her carotid.

She watched his gaze focus on the invitation she'd laid out for him on her neck and his heard his breath hitch. Got him. His eyes flashed back to her and then she was being moved. He rolled forward, unfurling his knees, placing his elbows on either side of her head and pushing her down the bed by his brutal grip on her waist. In a fluid motion he parted her soft slick lips with the swollen head of his cock and slid into her in one long stroke. No words, no warning, just the cool long glide of him splitting her apart after nearly a year.  
“Spiiiiike” His name fell from her lips as he sunk into her.  
“Buffy” He moaned “Christ Buffy. Still so bloody tight. So hot. Fuck I'm burning up” He rambled, drawing his generous length all the way out before sliding in sweetly again.  
“Nng” She moaned under him, unable to form words. She just basked in the feeling of him, Strong and lean, porcelain skin gleaming with her stolen sheen of sweat, narrow hips rocking into her at a slow and steady pace.

“Kitten” He moaned, and she squeezed him as he slid all the way in. Trapping him deep within her as she pulsed around him “Oh god. Just like that. Grip me good. Never let me go. Can't live without this, without you, your prefect pretty pussy. Strong beautiful girl”  
“Never” She answered “Mine “She answered in response. Lazily thrusting her hips against his, her leg muscles not quite working still, thighs still trembling from his onslaught. He moved up her body then, tongue trailing along the trail of arousal she had left for him. He purred above her, laving her blazing skin with his cool tongue. He followed her path and sucked in one of her ambrosia covered nipples.

She keened, arcing to him, thrusting more of herself into his mouth.  
“Perfect little titties. So bleeding soft” Whispering against hard puckered flesh. He palmed her untouched breast, kneading it beneath deft fingers. He switched then, pinching and rolling the nipple previously attended to by his tongue and swirled his tongue around the other, gathering her sweet elixir from that one.

He was rumbling and purring beneath her, like a large cat with cream, lapping at her flesh with broad flat strokes of his tongue. All the while slowly rocking his hips, no urgency in his thrusts. And this was what she always wanted, what she feared to have with him, with anyone. This intense moment of connectiveness with another person. She didn't think she was ever going to be capable of it. She had tried with Ciro just last night...or was it the night before now? And it had failed miserably. But it was not because she was physically unable to, rather she had never gotten over (and never wanted to) Spike's memory. He took his time with her breasts, maintaining a steady rhythm within her as he continued to alternate between kisses, nibbles, pinches and sucking her nipples until she was panting heavily underneath him, like she had done to him not long ago (or was it?)

She had no concept of time anymore. His flat had no windows and the supernal creature who was able to tell the exact fucking position of the sun at any given time was current buried balls deep in her pussy and lathering her chest with attention. Not that she was complaining. This may quite possibility be the best night of her entire life.

She felt him leave her, blowing soft puffs of air against each of her now aching buds, hard as little red diamonds under his administrations, tingly with the loss of pressure and lips of Spike. But before he rose any further, he stopped and pressed a gentle kiss to her scar.  
“Such a tiny thing. Causes so much damage” He murmured against her flesh “I'd forgotten just how destructive they can be. Haven't had to worry about them in so long” He kissed it again “Can't believe the pathetic wanker shot you. Bloody coward”  
He raised his head and leaned forward to kiss her forehead, cupping the back of her head and underneath her chin as he tilted her head back to kiss her. And it was the kind of kiss that made her feel cherished. His tongue delved into her wanting mouth and mingled with hers, unhurried.  
When she broke away, he was grinning at her with that little half upturned smirk he wore, cocky but sweet and distinctly his.

She looked him dead in the eyes, watching for his reaction as she thrust her hips up slowly, meeting his and pushing him deep within her, simultaneously tilting her head to right, giving him access to the unmarked left side of her throat.  
She caught the flash of amber in his eyes, lightning crackling across stormy blue-black skies.

“Buffy...” His voice but a whisper, her name hanging in silence, accompanied only by her heavy panting.

“I want you to” Was her reply.

“Lamb....you can't know what this means to me” His voice soft and bewildered.

“Maybe not fully.... but I know what it means for me Spike. I know that I want it. That I want you. All of you...and I trust you”

“Dear Buffy. My Slayer” He kissed her scar. “My love” And kissed above her pounding heart “My siren” He kissed the hollow of her throat “My life” He kissed her forehead “My light” He kissed her eyelids “My friend” He kissed her jaw. Then hesitantly he kissed over her pulse point. She felt her heart hammer under her skin as his tongue tentatively flicked her last marking of her trail of arousal, the tip dragging through the small puddle of wetness she had left for him there. She heard him inhale deeply  
“My heart” He whispered.

She felt his blunt human teeth on her unmarred neck, nibbling softly  
“You give me such a gift” Murmuring. “What have I done to deserve this”

“By being you” She replied without a beat. “I love you, William”  
He shuddered above her and he didn't hide the fact the sniffle that followed  
“Gods Buffy. I love you to”

His languid strokes continued, a slow building pressure that was deep within her was building up. It was different than anything she'd ever felt. She was used to the fast pace fucking and the sensation of his cock-head slamming against the back of her cervix, a mixture of pain and the pleasure from bumping her clit on his downward strokes that caused the raging infernos within her to burst almost as quickly as they started. It was this new sensation, rooted deep within her, his cock stroking the walls of her insides and the way he kept her on edge by manipulating her clit with those masterful fingers.

As he descended upon her neck, panting heavily, she stopped him one last time. For a moment, his eyes flashed with disappointment, like he was a child whose toy got taken away or that she had come to her sense somehow. But she shook her head.

“I want all of you William” And to get her point across she brushed her thumb against the ridge of his brow, where his bumpies would appear. “Please” She pleaded.

There was a bestial growl in the back of his throat that caught her off guard and within seconds his human guise shifted, bones cracking and reforming and his golden eyes stared back at her. She stared into the face of his demon, his other half and cupped his face. He nuzzled into her, recognizing her, accepting her as kin. And she guided him to her neck, to the essence of her and to her heart's blood.

“I love you” She whispered. She thought he'd talked himself out of it when she felt his lips clamp around her tender skin. She heard the purring and wondered what he was waiting for. Every second she anticipated it, she felt like it would hurt more. When he didn't bite her, she focused on his strokes and felt the pressure was building up faster than she thought. Her breath hitched after a few more of his strokes, ready to fall over the edge, her hips meeting his and the pressure on her neck increased.

“Love you too” His words a whisper on the demons lips and then there were two pricks of intense pressure but no pain as his fangs pierced her skin at the same time he thrust deeply within her. She felt her muscles ripple around him, threatening to break him in half while buried within her, her body shook in a full body tremble.

“Spike!” She cried out with such intense pleasure as his cock plundered her womb, spasming deep inside her at the same time as his fangs sunk into precious oxygenated blood. She felt the dizzy pleasure as he took mouthfuls of her in, a guttural strangled groan above her as her muscles squeezed him and he drank her down. After a few languorous pulls he pulled away from her, panting like he'd gone all night fucking her, mouth stained red, a sharp contrast to his pale skin.

“Christ” He moaned licking his lips before darting back to her neck, lapping at the tiny holes and closing them.  
“Fucking Sunshine” He mumbled dazed as he rested his forehead against her shoulder. Kissing her fevered skin.

That brought a smile to her face and a full-throated laugh rumbled through her. She slid her fingers into his hair, playing with the loose curls and massaging his scalp.  
“What’s that?” She asked him, slowly regaining her voice. His hips finally stilled against her, but he made no move to remove himself.  
“You taste like fuckin sunshine” He whispered reverently.

“That's not a flavor” She quipped, finding herself only very mildly disturbed that he was talking about her blood like it was some kind of coffee variety.  
“Like...warmth. Sweet and tangy...there aren't any words to describe it. Nothing like it in the whole soddin world. I'll never forget that”

“You won’t have to.” She said with a loving smile

He paused  
“You’re not food” He grumbled

“No. Not food. Lover. A lover willing to share her incredible blood with her incredibly sweet hot vampire boyfriend” She said in a truly Buffy style

His lips quirked up in a smile “Boyfriend eh? Like the sound of that. Never been the boyfriend before”

“Well....now you can be” She grinned but paused a moment. That is…. if he decided to come with her. She couldn't stay here in the States anymore. She was no longer haunted by the memories here, they'd been reforged by new ones. Sweeter ones. But she had nothing left to tie her here.

“Come with me” She said determinedly

“Yes” He affirmed without a beat.

“You haven't even...”

“Don't rightly care. Can't be without you. Won't ever leave your side. Ergo....yes”

She grinned from ear to ear. “You'll live with me and Dawnie in Rome?”

“I'll live with you and Bit at the bottom of a well if that’s where you'd be. You've got me for life luv.” And he kissed her lips, chaste and sweet.

“Great...we'll just get you all packed up...”

“Pretty much done already. Really just the vinyl player and my records”

She glanced over at the vinyl player.  
“Can we...listen to one...together?”

He grinned kissing his mark. Laving at his with his tongue, inhaling her scent. Weird creature vampires.  
“Whatever you want luv. Don't you wanna head back though?”

She shook her head and flushed.  
“I uh...thought we might stay here for a few days. Be alone together with no interruptions before we headed back and get interrogated”

“Oh really?” That devilish smile creeping across his face. “And what did you have in mind?” Tongue curling behind his teeth.

“I thought maybe...we could...explore some of those kinks?” Her voice but a tiny whisper. She watched his eyes, bright blue and amused, sparkling like radiant sapphires. Mirth on both his face and in his eyes. It made him looked younger, freer.

“Oh pet. That sounds brilliant” His voice low and husky, his palm cupping her jaw.

“I know...” She nuzzled into him.

“First though. Let’s get you a bite to eat. Listen to some Pistols, get you some kip and then we'll do whatever you want, for as long as you want? Sound good?”

She kissed him sweetly and wrapped her arms, breathing in his scent as she drew him against her. Cool and hard, strong and steady under her. She was so afraid, so desperate for so long that she was never going to be get over him. That the memory of his ghost would go with her to her grave, however long that may be and that she'd never know love outside what he was so willing and so determined to give to her. And now...now she didn't have to. Nothing else mattered. He was here, with her for always. The strange rebellious vampire with a penchant for leather, cigarettes and punk rock music. Who loved her more wholeheartedly without a soul than anyone she'd known that had one. The one who never left.

“Yeah....sounds good” She smiled

THE END


	2. For Your Entertainment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of What If I Never Get Over You, Spike and Buffy bask in finally being back together. Spike helps her to explore herself while they have the time alone together. More smut ensues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I apologize for the delay. I started my online Master's program two weeks ago and I've had to put most of my effort into that....and watching Buffy of course! Can't get enough of it. I'm mostly able to write little snippets here and there on the notes page of my phone while I'm at work. Anyways this was a fun chapter for me to write because I'm part of this kinky community so I love writing about it. I firmly think that Spike is more of a sub than a dom but he'll switch in order to please.
> 
> Pretty much everything in my life stems from the music I listen to and it I like to include it in all my works. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“For Your Entertainment” by Adam Lambert

_It's alright  
You'll be fine  
Baby, I'm in control  
Take the pain  
Take the pleasure  
I'm the master of both  
Close your eyes  
Not your mind  
Let me into your soul  
I'm a work ya 'til your totally blown_

_~_

He was never going to get over the fact that she was here, not just in LA, but across from him on his bed by her own choice. At times he wasn't completely convinced that all of this wasn't just some magical purgatory that he'd been sent to by the powers to be after his run in with the Slayer Dana. Or that he was trapped in a dimension of his own longing for his blonde Slayer. But he knew there was no way that the unloving sods at the top of the food chain would be able to replicate the exact way that Buffy smelled and tasted.

The sweetness of her tender lips, pouty and covered in that mango stuff she kept them moist with. The tangy taste of her cum unique only to her, soaking his fingers, his tongue and his cock. And her blood. God her blood. As pleasant as the first two Slayers had tasted, they didn't hold a candle to Buffy. Her blood was pure power. More powerful than both previous girls combined. It was decadent in that when it flowed from her precious arteries, the coppery ambrosia coated his tongue, enveloped his senses to a point of overload and sent his entire body into an extremely volatile mix of lust, violence and reverent awe. And it was delicate, acidic, fresh and slightly sweet, like biting into a juicy orange and thousands of little juice filled vesicles exploding all at once and splashing his taste buds. He nearly moaned out loud just thinking about it.

He sat at the head of his bed, leaning against the headboard, fully dressed at the Slayers request as his Slayer slept soundly underneath his high thread count sheets. She was curled up comfortably on her side, her sun kissed skin was a beautiful contrast with his rich crimson cotton sheets. She was breathing steadily, no signs of the nightmares she'd told him were usually so common. His heart constricted at that, the reason she was finally able to sleep in peace was due to his presence by her side.

He was still gobsmacked by the unexpected turn of events. In all his days he would never have expected things to turn out the way that they did. He was right brassed at the little twerp for what he had done...but he knew he owed a great deal to the little ponce. He hated that Andrew had defied him, didn't take lightly to those who went against their word...but in this case he could make an exception. Not only had Buffy come to see him when she found out that he was alive and injured (a rather paltry injury he may add, but he wasn't going to argue with her logic) but she had proceeded to track him down, defy her ex, stayed with him in the hospital, show up at his apartment and now....

A light smile graced his face. He'd never smiled so much in his entire existence as he did now. Now she was here, filled with light and love and all for him. She had now confessed that she was sure of her love for him when they'd spent that night together in the abandoned house, spurned by her friends and family, she turned to the only person who she could still trust. Trust. An ideal he had once believed was only for old marrieds, not meant for those in the passion of youth, but now something he clung to so desperately because it was something that meant he could be with her.

He couldn't say that he was completely okay with all the changes he'd had to make in order to get to this point. The biggest offender was still his intake of blood. Bagging it was monotonous and although it soothed the demon into a controllable submission, it did not quell the thrill for the hunt. The satisfaction that came from tracking down prey, tasting the fear and adrenaline as they fled for their life and the flavor it added to their blood when he caught them. Because with the chip out, he had nothing holding him back from doing just that. There was finally no one watching over his shoulder. And while he was here in this shit stain of a city, he confessed that he indeed did take up on the ability to do so. Nothing major, just little nips here and there, in his age it didn't take much blood to keep him in tip top shape. But he supposed that it would have to stop now that Buffy was back in the picture. He knew that she would suss out if he were lying or not and it was a necessary sacrifice in order to assure his little sun goddess would stay with him.

He clutched at his chest, the soddin soul threatening him with waves of guilt from his past grievances and those he threatened to commit. Truth be told the thing was bloody murder. It drove him off his trolly for the first few months after getting it back. Desperate and weak he made his way back to Sunnydale from Africa. He honestly couldn't remember much of the trip, only that much of it was spent in the cold cramped cargo holds of whatever ships he could find safe harbor aboard. Huddled around himself, feeding on rats and rocking back and forth, attempting to sooth himself as the tens of thousands of victims of his past were burned into his brain. The crying and screaming, the fear in their eyes.

After feeling the weight of all those victims on his tortured soul, he kind of adapted to the feeling when he'd nip a bit of blood from a victim off the grubby streets of LA. He wouldn't kill them anymore; he didn't think he could with the soul and really in this day and age it was more trouble than it was worth. With the new advancements in technology and the meddling of certain vigilantes mucking about the streets it was a lot bloody easier to get caught then it was back in the early 1900's.

This soul...his mortal soul. Now infused back into his unholy body after being separated for one hundred and twenty-four years. He wouldn't have believed it possible if he hadn't gone through those demon trials, didn't feel the thing squirming under his skin. He'd be lying if he said he was happy with it being back with him. He thought he'd gotten rid of it the night his life changed for the better. But for all the bad that he associated with it, he wouldn't take back what he'd done. Without it, he wasn't sure if he would have been able to repair the damage he'd done to their relationship. He knew he had no right to be back in her life after that, what he had done was unforgivable. But he was selfish and weak and needed to be around her even if she never showed him a scrap more of affection. He was sure that when he'd returned that she, or one of the Scoobies would have staked him on the spot. But in that classic Buffy way, she'd given him the benefit of the doubt, forgiven him, trusted him...loved him.

And here she was, trusting enough now that she had fallen asleep, the most vulnerable thing that a human, even one with super strength and special vampire senses, could do in the presence of a vampire and allowed him to watch over while she slept knowing full well that he was without the chip and could easily kill her.

Last night had been a bloody revelation. He knew he'd said those exact words to her on multiple occasions, but each seemed to be more exponential in their magnitude then the last. The things she said, things she did, let him do...she had him completely awestruck, completely caught off guard. It was more than he could have ever hoped for in his entire unlife. To see her crying over him, visibly mourning her loss of him, followed by her admission of absolute love and devotion...well if his poor heart could beat it would have broken his chest. The light, the pure emotion in those irradiated emerald eyes of hers as she told him she loved him, couldn't live without him, had him gasping for breath he didn't need. And it had been followed by the most mind-blowing orgasm he'd ever had in his entire unlife.

He shuddered in delight, feeling borrowed blood rush south, his prick remembering the gift it had been given last night. Having his little goddess worship his body like that, he'd only dreamed about that kind of attention from anyone really, but especially her. He knew that when their lovemaking was completely mutual that it would be revolutionary, pure ecstasy. He never doubted that for a single second. He'd never had a partner quite like her. Passionate and responsive, strong and durable. Dominant and submissive.

He would never forget what Drusilla had given him. A rise from mediocrity, away from the filth that he'd been forced to be in company of. Because that's what good gents, straight from University did. They mingled among a crowd that was more exclusive and tightly wound than a nun's cunt and with the attitude of a band of cutthroats. They were more vicious in nature than he after he was turned. Flaunting their wealth and status but ostracizing anyone they considered beneath them. His thoughts took a sharp turn away from that particular train.

Drusilla had been there for him, brought him over to the dark side and freed the scared poet within him, allowing his true nature to manifest. She'd also been his first. Welcoming with open arms into her dainty body. Introducing him to the pleasures of sex he'd only dreamed about before. After his first taste he had become addicted to her. He'd never forget the way her wicked little cunt had sucked him in and made him a slave to her. He worshiped the temple of his black goddess's body any chance he got, enamored by her ethereal beauty. She'd taught him her games. The use of toys and hands; fists and fangs were commonplace in all of their couplings. Exploration of things that his genteel self would have blushed at.

He'd been introduced to the intricacies of bondage; the use of ropes, chains and manacles as a way to submit or subdue and to inflict or enforce pleasure. That dominating and having control which he'd been severely lacking for the entirety of his human life over his wicked little plum, making her submit to his will, forcing her to do as he wished with the understanding that it brought mutual pleasure to them both was utterly intoxicating. More often than not he was on the receiving end of such punishments, many times his princess would get carried away and forgo the use of any consent they had forged and instead wreak havoc on his body, mutilating him physically and degrading him emotionally to the point of tears. But it was the only way that she knew how to love. The only way to get her wet enough to fuck her good without it also being too uncomfortable for him when he'd tried to shove his generous size within her. As much as he had come to love their games, the intensity of their fucking, all he really wanted was to lay her down and tenderly make love to her all night. But it was never in the cards for him. Drusilla couldn't get off on that kind of sex and got bored every time he tried to, which usually lead to worse punishments. Sometimes even Angelus would join in on her fun, those were the rough days.

Without his soul, he was not only an utter git, but a truly evil one at that. It was through him that he had been taught about other kinds of sex, between men. Mostly he'd been at the receiving end, forced to take his grandsires sadistic rage and ire in the form of hour-long torture sessions, followed by being buggered to the point of utter pain and exhaustion. Vampire stamina could be a right bitch in the wrong kind of circumstances. It hadn't always been like that though. Some days the pillock would be gentle, actually take the time to teach him how to please other men, and women as well. Granted this was mostly when Darla had deserted him and he was looking for a little cold comfort. Sometimes all three of them would engage in sex together, but he didn't like it so much...he didn't like the idea of sharing. But gender never really mattered much to him after he was turned, a willing body was a willing body after all. Unfortunately he'd also bitterly learned that it was common that most vampires were not monogamous like he.

He'd thought after Dru that there would be none like her. She was the end all for his affection, the only one for him for the rest of his days...even if she turned from him at any chance in favor of her Daddy. If he didn't have Dru...he was nothing, no one, just love's bitch. But that was before Buffy had come into his life. He'd never forget his love for Drusilla, his time spent with his black goddess, the things she taught him and who she'd shaped him to be...but once he had gotten even the smallest of crumbs of what Buffy could give him, he'd never be able to go back. He'd never forget the way Drusilla's cool mouth and cunt had felt on his equally tepid cock, able to take him into the deep depths of her without pain or the inconvenience of a gag reflex. But Buffy...his Buffy...her tight hot little body, the inferno of her sweet pussy and the heat of her mouth, struggling to take him in had been an utter revelation. And she had willingly given him the gift of her blood. Hot and gushing straight from the source compared to the viscous mixed blood of his sire. Gods what had he done to deserve that from her? He couldn't fathom the change within her, was convinced that she'd never feel for him what he did for her. He knew that if he dusted tomorrow, he'd finally die a happy vampire. His little blonde angel, his Slayer, his redemption.

“You gonna keep staring at me like that? I don't know whether to be flattered...or creeped out” He heard her voice say and he snapped out of his daze. Sometime during the trip through his own head she'd woken up and he hadn't noticed. She sat facing him on the other side of his bed, playing with her stuffed pig. Mr...something? Gordon? Since their glorious night last night, they had both slept, eaten, and showered (separately at the request of Buffy, what a pity) and she'd put on some oversized thing to cover herself up (against his wishes to leave her naked of course). He'd woken up before her and after he was convinced that she was fast asleep, he had briefly left the flat, on a mission to get back before she woke to get those piercings done for her.

“Should be flattered. So awestruck with your beauty, a fella can't help himself but go into a daze looking at you” He replied gently. Every syllable filled with reverence as they fell from his lips.

“Such a sweet talker” She murmured, but clearly embarrassed

“Mean every word lamb. Be happy to sit here and just tell you how gorgeous you are”

“And yet I know you’re ready to prod me for questions so you can answer them quickly and have your wicked way with me” She said with a cocky grin, arms crossing over those perky little tits of hers.

“Well...yeah...can't blame a bloke for wanting his girl...so fire away luv” He prompted “You got three more questions”

She fiddled with the ears of her pig.

“You never answered my question yesterday of the status of your deliquent-ness” She said idly. “You told me the night I came to you about the other Slayers that you'd always been bad”

He grabbed his fresh pack of cigs from beside him, lighting one up.

“No...not exactly” He drawled slowly, blowing smoke up into the ceiling. He hadn't wanted to delve into this particular part of his past, his human past. Especially telling her that not only was he not bad, that he was the exact opposite of bad, a no-good bloody poet. Truth be told there had only been a handful of his own personal compositions throughout all of his years that he'd been proud of. Not that it mattered now since all of them had burned away and become dust

She cocked an eyebrow at him, a beckoning gesture for him to continue. He sighed. Not getting out of this one then

“Was a bloody poet” He started, not able to meet her gaze, instead staring at the cloud of smoke rising towards the ceiling. “Had finished Uni at Cambridge, gotten my master’s in modern and Contemporary Literature. I was trying to write my own compositions, become the next Shakespeare or Keats or summat. I liked prose and song, liked going to the theater and operas. In short Slayer. I was not bad at all” He scoffed “cept if you count my actual poetry of course. Bleeding rubbish the lot of it. I could read it, understand it, pick it apart and analyze it...but I couldn't figure out how to write it. Got my moniker from it” He growled

“Slayer of Slayers?”

“William the Bloody. The charlatans and berks of my time gave that name to me. Not on account of my body count, but because my poetry was so bloody awful. Still is..” He hated that even to this day those people still carried something over him, made him feel such bitter emotions and reminded him of his long dead past, a time and place where even though he was as cultured as them, had wealth just like them he was still never good enough for them. The only person he'd mattered to was his mother.

She was silent for a while, seeming to take in all of the information, but he still found he couldn't look at her. So when she spoke again he was surprised to hear her voice gentle and calm, not laughing at him like he'd expected her to, like he knew she would if he'd told her any of this before.

“A poet?” She questioned “You have a masters?”

He bristled. “Don't be so surprised luv. Just because your honey bear was some pissed son of a farmer who drowned himself in liquor and slags with no education to speak of, doesn't mean the rest of us didn't come from something better”

“That's not what I meant Spike. Don't get so touchy. I never said you weren't smart....I just wasn't expecting literature. I mean...I know your extremely intelligent and I should have guessed”

Her comment towards his acuity warmed his heart and boosted his ego. He wasn't often regarded as the intelligent one of the group, especially when he was around the Watcher and Red.

“Yeah?” He drawled “Why's that luv?”

“Dunno, you’ve always been so good with speeches. Your words are eloquent and put together...most of the time that is”

He grimed and sucked in another heavy breath of smoke, holding it in his undead lungs. Thank god he was free to smoke as much as he wanted without worrying about leaving Buffy for cancer. He'd quit in a heartbeat if that wasn't the case, especially after her mother's death.

“You didn't seem to be a fan before”

She frowned

“Doesn't mean I can't recognize it when I hear something. Contrary to what most people think...I'm not stupid. I just didn't have a lot of time to devote to school. But you should have seen my SAT scores. Willow said I could have gotten into any college I wanted to!”

He scowled

“Sod everyone who ever said that about you. Your more than just smart luv, gotta be to have gotten where you are today. Your the longest living Slayer, the strongest Slayer and no doubt the hottest. But you don't get anywhere without brains. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise”

“I wont” She agreed, flushing with his compliments. He loved when she turned that soft shade of pink, blood rosying up her perfect skin, drawing her blood to the surface, calling to him like a siren. He could hear it pumping away, beckoning him. With luck, he'd get to taste her again tonight.

“So do you still write?”

He blew out another steady stream of smoke.

“Have a few things rattling around in here” He said, gesturing to his head. “Most of what I had done us gone. All my books and journals were burnt to ash and buried. There's one or two pieces that might actually turn out to be something”

“Can I...” She started

“Sorry luv” He interrupted “Can't do it. Love you...and maybe one day. But right now, they're staying in my head where they belong” He watched her face fall in a frown. He hated that, that look of defeat in those big doe eyes of hers, that he still disappointed her.

“Okay...” She mumbled dejectedly. “Well maybe then....if I finally go back to school you can help me?” She asked, a hopefulness in her voice. A tiny tentative smile in the corner of her mouth. And gods how was he supposed to resist that face? That sweet little smile of her's.

“Anything for you pet. What were you thinking about studying?”

She shrugged  
“No idea. I didn't really get that far with even my core classes. I only managed to pass a couple before you know...Apocalypse on Apocalypse action”

He chuckled at that

“Fair enough pet. That's two questions down. One more” and he curled his tongue behind his teeth. He heard the tiny little gasp of breath she made and the smell of her arousal was unmistakable. Just one more question and he could have his way with her for a time. He watched her as she seemed lost in thought and wondered what could possibly come out of her head. Her pattern so far had been consistently in the past. He wondered if she'd continue with it or choose something else. Finally, her silence was broken

“When's your birthday?” She asked

He gaped. He hadn't expected that one, though he supposed it shouldn't have been that big of a shock. But its not like it had been important to anyone in a long time, not even him. He actually to had to think for a moment and the look of confusion on her face was priceless.

“What you forgot your own birthday?” She asked incredulously

He rolled his eyes at her

“Not like it means anything to me anyways. Not like anyone was around to celebrate it with me eh? Can you honestly picture Angelus and Dru getting me prezzies? Birthday means nothing to a vampire. And are you telling me it would have mattered to you if you'd known it before?” He demanded

“Well...no...I guess not. But...it’s still your birthday”

“It’s a human thing luv. Vampires don't really keep track of that, we don't even care about how many years we've been undead you know? Time moves differently for immortal creatures. Years go by in the blink of an eye. I've been walking the earth for over a century. The only reason everyone knows how long we've been around is because the Watchers keep a record of it”

“That's true. I didn't really think of it that way”

  
“Don't expect you to. Not like the lives of the creature your meant to kill should really matter anyways. Hell, the lives of my own race don't matter to me” He ground out, stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray he had sitting on the edge of the bed.

“It matters to me” She offered sweetly.

“Ta luv. Now that means something to me. You want to know when I was born...or reborn?” He asked

“The day that William Pratt was born” She replied

“Know that do you?” He leered “Angel tell you?” He hated that the sod knew. Hated that his given name had condemned him. Like he hadn't gotten enough shite all throughout his life enough for having a surname like Pratt in London. And then the great sod found out and teased him mercilessly. Becoming just Spike had been one of the greatest decisions of his life.

“It was on your hospital room door. I'm sorry if you didn't want me to know. It was kinda out in the open, clearly visible to Buffy eyes” And those eyes pleaded with his.

“S okay pet. Don't have to apologize to me. Can't stress enough that I want to be completely open with you, no secrets” And he truly meant it. After everything they had been through, all the ugly twisted things, honesty needed to be at the forefront of their relationship. Honesty and trust. Without them, they'd crumble and fall, just like they did the first time.

“I want that too” She agreed and she smiled at him. That soft little smile that usually preceded butterfly kisses and I love you's. Something he had only ever dreamed about having all his life.

“I was born November 7th, 1853” He admitted, feeling like there was a small weight lifted from his shoulder. Not a single soul knew that but the two of them and with the exception of the Niblet, no one else would be privy to that information.

“November huh? Suits you”

He quirked an eyebrow at that

“Why's that luv?”

“Winter baby. Just suits you more as a vampire I guess, rather than a child of summer. Plus...Scorpio” She mumbled with an embarrassing tone, as if she knew the admittance to liking something as trivial astrological signs was beneath her. And they **_were_** trivial. He never understood the fascination of them but in dating a modern woman like Buffy he would have to deal with a lot of new age things that younger women did and liked.

“And do the stars find us compatible?” He teased

She blushed and fumbled for words “Well yeah....I think were pretty good...”

“Just pretty good?” He picked himself up from his sitting position, rolling forward and started crawling towards her until he was nudging his knees between her outstretched legs. He picked up the increased pace of her little heart, growing more and more excited the closer he came to her.

“I happen to think we're more than that. Happen to think we're bloody brilliant together”

“Y..Yeah” She stuttered

“Loss of words already sweet? Was hoping I'd get you to that point, but I didn't think so soon” His fingers darted out to caress her sides, gliding over her sleeping shirt, grasping at the hem of it and pulling it over her head in one fluid motion. It seems that she had taken his advice in not wearing anything underneath, her perfect sun kissed body bare to him.

“Gorgeous thing you are. Like looking at the sun. Dazzling and deadly but I can't look away”

“Have you always been this attracted to things that kill you?”

“What can I say?” He drawled, cocking his head “It makes things more interesting. And speaking of interesting. What is it that you want to explore first luv?”

“Oh...” And it looked like she had been caught off guard, like they weren't planning on spending the rest of the day exploring things together. “Well I guess something small to start...why don't you decide...I'm not really...I mean I'm new and you know what you’re doing”

He sighed softly “Your running the show pet. Lesson the first. Want you to be able to tell me what you want” He gently grabbed her around her waist, pulling her forward so that she sat in his lap. “So, what does Buffy want?” He asked placing a kiss upon her forehead.

“Kiss me?” She asked tilting her head back

“Forever, if you'll let me” He murmured, and he captured her lips in a sweet kiss. Her lips moved against his slowly and unhurried. She wrapped her arms around his neck and in response he pulled away from her mouth and kissed the corner of her lips, her jaw, the curve of her neck until finally he kissed over his mark from last night. She erupted into shivers beneath him and pushed her neck into him.

“Spike” She whimpered

He was tempted. Couldn't wait to bury his fangs in her perfect throat again, drink down her hearts blood, make her scream. But he reigned himself in, controlled the demon lurking just under the surface.

“Not now sweet. Later. Promise” He forced out, praying that she wouldn't ask again, because he didn't think he could say no again. And to remove the temptation he returned to her lips, placing a chaste kiss upon them. She pulled away first, capturing his gaze. Her sparkling green eyes swirling with a mixture of love and the stirrings of lust.

“Lets get you out of your clothes. Seems unfair” She said with a frown and her little hands set to work. She removed herself from his lap and quickly removed him of both his signature black tee and tight black pants. She gasped when she looked upon him. Her gaze fixed at his chest and the silver bars that now bisected both of his nipples. Heard the gasp in her voice.

“When did you....”Her voice breathless.

“May have left the flat for just a tick while you were nappin. Sounded like you were real interested yesterday”

“I should be mad at you for leaving and not telling. You know how I feel about that” She pouted and she caught the guilty look across his face. “But...” And she inched closer to him again, sitting between his outstretched legs. Blood already rushing to his cock as her naked body hovered over him. And then her blessed little fingers were upon him, touching the tips of his pebbled flesh and the cold stainless steel that ran through them. He sighed softly, arcing into her, encouraging her to continue touching him.

“Do they hurt?” She questioned

He chuckled “Pain's relative. Can take quite a bit. Enjoy a fair bit too. Go ahead luv” He leaned back a little, supporting himself on one arm behind him, the other curling itself around her waist. She glanced up at him tentatively before dropping her gaze back down to him and continued to touch him. She tapped on one of the silver balls and he felt a jolt of electricity though his body.

“They look really good on you” She said after a few moments of silence and timid touching. She pinched the pebbled tips and laid butterfly kisses on the skin of his pectorals.

“Ta pet” He groaned as she switched to pinching the bars themselves and twirling them lightly. “I'll keep em as long as you like”

“Wont they hurt if you get hit here?” She asked tugging lightly to accentuate her point.

He moaned beneath her the twinge of pain going straight to his semi hard cock, laying heavy against his thigh.

“Vampire” He gritted out as she gained confidence in the amount of strength she was using, tugging and pulling now, causing him to start to pant beneath her

“Have you always been into this kind of stuff?” She asked, her motions stopping momentarily, allowing him to catch his unneeded breath.

“Since I've been turned yeah. This was a way of life for Angelus and Drusilla” He didn't fail to notice the look she gave him when he mentioned her precious Angel. “Angelus taught his ways to Dru, poor innocent thing didn't stand a chance against him. Conditioned her so that the only way she could feel, the only way for her to get off was through torture and the darker side of sex. And since it was the only way she knew how to love, when she took me into her bed, that's how I learned too. She took me to places I didn't know existed. It was torture what she did to me, but it was passionate and wild and I needed her to love me”

Her face fell and he wasn't sure if it was because he put Peaches into a bad light that she didn't want to hear about or...

“How can I compete with that?” She frowned, stilling her movements. Or that. Christ. For as confident and strong as the girl was on the battlefield, she was such a timid little thing in the bedroom. He could kill all of the tossers that had made her feel like she was inadequate. Making her feel like she was the one with issues when it came to pleasing them.

“Oh sweet girl” He murmured, drawing her closer, letting her lounge against his reclined torso, her head cradled in his shoulder. “There's nothing that you have to compete with. Your perfect. The only one that matters” He gently caressed her, strong fingers kneading her lower back. “That part of my life is over. Your it for me Buffy. Your the one”

She craned her head to look at him and his cold black heart melted from the smile that she gave him. She scooted up against him and felt her lips press against his neck. He rumbled beneath her and turned his head to capture those lips in a kiss.

But unlike last night, there were no promises to be kept about kisses being sweet. So after she broke away to intake some much needed oxygen, he came back for more, lips overtaking hers, consuming her. He thrust his tongue past her pretty mango tasting lips and curled it around hers and he was delighted to feel her give back as much as he gave. Forcing her way into his own mouth slipping her tongue across blunt teeth and gums. He let her explore, dared her to take charge of their carnal exchange and then bloody hell, her tongue swiped across the underside of his canines where his fangs would slide out. He growled, deep and feral, the sensation was incredible. Hot and tingly, and the demon stirred, threatening his release as the woman he wished to claim as his mate stroked such an intimate part of him.

“Mmm Buffy” He moaned, rutting up against her. His fully engorged cock sliding between her nether lips at a frantic pace.

She pulled back, eyes dilated.

“What the hell was that?” She asked breathless.

He took a deep breath, eyes never leaving hers.

“Turns out stroking the place a blokes fangs pop out makes the demon want to come out and play” He returned to stroking her lower back. “Sorry luv, almost lost control there”

“I was gonna say it was hot” Her hips starting to rock gently against his

“Hot eh? Bloody hell Buffy, Fairly certain I’d be shocked into a heart attack if that were possible” Gripping her tightly and pulling her down hard against him, grinding against her.

“Want you” She gasped out

He felt the growl in the back of his throat and eyes widened as her tiny hands reached underneath them and grabbed his swollen prick working her hands up and down his length, somehow managing to reach down far enough to cup his balls.

“Bloody hell” He moaned out “Harder. Won't break” He felt her grip tighten and he threw his head back. Her hands were like magic, knowing exactly how to tighten, roll, squeeze and pinch. Without trying she gave him the right amount of pressure, gripped him so that her fingers dug into his sack and manipulated each of testicles enough to drive him completely mad. He was certain that if she kept this up, he would cum from just this alone.

And then with a whine, desperate and needy she was guiding him into her and he gripped her tighter, fingers digging deep into her skin and fought to maintain the balance he had leaning back on his one arm.

“Buffy...Christ so bleedin tight you are. So hot. Burning me up you are my sun goddess”

She reclined back, gripped his thighs tight with that delicious Slayer strength of hers and began to ride him. She started out slowly, rocking gently, taking him to the hilt in languid strokes. He let her set the pace, raised his hips and watched through hooded eyes as she moved up and down on them, fucking herself on his cock. Couldn't tare his eyes away from the place they were joined, watching his generous length disappearing into her sopping hole. Entranced that her tiny body could take him all in. His gaze raked over the rest of her naked form. And she was so bloody beautiful. Such soft skin stretched over those toned muscles and feminine curves. Her perky tits, perfect little handfuls topped with those rosy nipples, hard and puckered and so begging to be devoured but were so far away. That light shine from the thin sheen of sweat she was working up as her pace increased, making her glow.

And then she was bouncing on him. Raising all the way, drawing him all the way out until just his tip was inside her before falling back down his entire length. She grunted every time she came down, a primal sound he'd never heard from her before. Her commercial like hair bouncing lightly as she came down on him starting to get clumped together with sweat. Her head was thrown back, eyes screwed shut as she arced her back, changing the angle and driving him deeper.

“What a vision you are” He praised “Beautiful girl. 'S it. Christ baby you feel good. 'S it. Ride me like that”

“Spike” She moaned in response. Her hips jolting against him in quick flicks. He heard her heart rate skyrocket, rapid fluttering just underneath her skin. Saw the tensing in the muscles of her thighs and abs. This in combination with the release of a cocktail of hormones and the pleasure pain of her inner muscles clenching around his cock, threatening to break him in two let him know she was already starting to come around him. “Spike” She moaned again, long and drawn out, body starting to quiver.

He stayed idle no longer. As she came down on him, he now thrust up into her, bumping her clit, driving deeper within her, cock head stabbing the furthest reaches of her and she screamed, chest heaving as she came around him.

She called out his name in release, gripping his thighs in brute strength, leaving bloody trenches and very nearly came himself, that sweet pain and the scent of both of their blood calling to his demon. But he held himself back, knowing this night was far from over. She stilled eventually, waves of pleasure finally subsiding, panting heavily and he held onto her tightly as her muscles started to relax and she started to sag against him.

But he didn't let her fully relax, didn't let her catch her breath. He flipped her. Strong arms on either side of her head, cock never leaving her and then he was pounding into her, driving her into the mattress. He wanted her boneless, pliant, manipulatable so that when he drove in deep it didn't hurt her…much...grunting with every thrust, losing herself in her quim, still spasming around him. But true to Buffy nature she didn't give up, gave it her everything. And it was what he loved about the crazy chit. She wrapped her legs tightly around his narrow hips, heels digging into the small of his back, meeting him thrust for violent thrust. Her eagerness spurred him on, made him lose himself within her. With wild abandonment she met him clash for clash, just another type of fight between them. One that offered as much a reward as trading blows.

And he had to fight to keep control. He was still reeling from when she offered her neck a second time, from when she licked his fangs resting place, dragged him down to unimaginable pleasure. He wanted to give that back to her. But this was more than just a tit for tat kind of deal. No. He wanted to make her aware of just exactly the depths he was willing to go, the things he was willing to do, the things he could teach her to raise her up to heights in pleasure that she'd never gone to. Bring her closer to the sun and catch her when her wings of feather and wax caught fire and sent her crashing down. He raised himself up, steadying himself upright, large open hands palming the insides of her thighs. His strokes slowed in speed but not intensity.

His dominant hand slid inward on her, thin fingers sliding across her sweat drenched skin up the crease of her thigh and feathering touches upon her smooth mons. She bowed her hips towards him, desperate for his touch, the pads of his fingers brushing little swirling designs across her skin.

“Touch me” She whined when he didn't go straight for her clit, still tracing patterns everywhere else. He drew invisible runes across her lower tummy, on her hips, her thighs, her nether lips. Every so often drawing a single finger down her seam, brushing the tip of her clit as it stuck out from between her lips but never giving her what she wanted.

“Please” She breathed after he came so close again but not close enough.

“Touch you where pet. Here?” And he swiped the pad of a finger against her seam, barely touching the inside of her folds.

“No” She whined and bucked her hips upward, trying to force his exploring finger to swipe against her clit. But he withdrew and he smirked when she pouted.

“Best stick that lip back in or I'll come down there and bite it” He taunted, and he watched her iris blow up black at the commanding tone of his voice. She sucked her lip back in but not before licking it.

“Like that do you?” He growled, and she nodded fervently, eyes baring into his and threw back his head momentarily, tempted to just give into the bitch and let her have it. But this was a game now and for once, he was in control. It was a pretty odd feeling, he had to admit. It wasn't the first time he'd been the dominant partner. Drusilla would let him every once and a while, when she wasn't in one of her stark raving mad moods or in a snit with him about one thing or another. She'd let her 'doggie' play the master when he'd been a good boy, let him take out his rage, his frustration, his pent-up blood lust out on his wicked sire. But because of Angelus, the amount of physical stimulation, the amount of torture he had to put her through in order to make her satisfied enough to quake and shudder beneath him had led him to being incredibly violent with her. Manacles and chains were child's play to his black goddess. She needed more than that, studded whips and paddles, hardwood canes, hot branding irons, they were all commonplace in their bedroom.

Often, he was on the receiving end of them. And he wouldn't lie, he very thoroughly enjoyed it, more so than being the one on the giving side of things. For as much as he liked to take the pain, he didn't so much like dishing it out. He did it though for her, because she wanted it, needed it, and he'd do anything for her. But he discovered quickly that torture and his girl's attraction to being forcefully raped while undertaking such physical pain did not turn him on the way it did her precious Daddy. Perhaps he was lucky that it was the one thing he did not learn from his precious grandsire.

But with Buffy, he had a clean slate. His girl had not been exposed to this lifestyle, the darker side of sex. In that regard she was as pure as white snow. She did not demand him to be cruel, only that he teach her about the realm of kinky sex, guide her safely through the twisted labyrinths and determine what she liked. He'd already learned from last night that she seemed open to the idea of dominance and submission and he intended to show her both sides of the scene. He'd start here, making her submit to him and see if she reacted to it and then he'd let her top him and see how she felt about that. Ideally, he wanted nothing more for her to climb atop him and never look back. He wanted so desperately for his sun goddess to force him to submit to her, knew she had it in her, made him so bloody hard. Bits of their conversation from last night came to him

_“Slayer, meet love's bitch”_

_“No more of that. Can't hurt you anymore. I want you as my partner, as my lover. Not my slave”_

_“And if I fancy all three?” He questioned; eyebrow raised  
  
_

_“I think.... maybe I'd like that” She admitted shyly_

Christ she'd be bloody brilliant. She'd shown signs of it already. He just had to coax her, teach her, bring out the hidden domina within her. Once he did that, he'd guide her into doing everything that she needed to know about working him and letting him worship the very ground she walked on. But for now,.... She laid under him, panting hard, waiting for him to take pity on her, give her what she wanted

“Spike please” She pleaded.

“Please what luv. Gotta tell me what you want”

“Since when?” And she frowned sticking that lip out again. He wasn't sure if she'd done it on purpose or not. “We've already established you know what I want before I do”

“Maybe I've forgotten” He grinned wickedly

“And maybe you’re being a jerk” She huffed

And in that moment, he wanted to smack her, punish her for her cruel words. His inner Dom, the mask he wore in order to protect himself from Dru's vicious nattering, nasty words and pet names she so very much loved to call him, the one he wore when he took out the emotional pain she'd given him in the form of physical punishment, threatened to slid right back in place. But the girl wasn't ready for that, likely that she would never be, and he was ashamed of himself for letting it come to the forefront that easily. But she didn't know, they hadn't discussed the thing which were off limits. He reminded himself that when this little scene was over, they needed to talk.

“And you’re not listening very well” He growled. He stilled his hips and removed himself completely from her, mourning the loss of that tight wet heat already, cock covered in her juices and the smell of her on him wouldn't leave him for over a week, even with multiple cold showers. Not that he wanted it to anyways. He grabbed her by the hips and abruptly flipped her over, breaking the scene only when he grabbed the pillows from the head of the bed and gave her one to put under her head and one under her hips. He wasn't a complete monster after all.

He kneeled between slightly parted legs and his hungry gaze devoured her luscious backside. Her slender shoulders, and the bones that were jutting out from not getting enough food in her, he'd have to work on that now that he'd be living with her. The very thought made he smile to himself, thankfully she couldn't see his face right now as she was staring straight ahead, towards the entrance of his flat. The delicate curve of her spine, little knobs of bone poking through the skin and he wondered if anyone had even attempted to look after her while she was gone, making sure the poor girl was eating. The gorgeous swell of her arse, tight, firm, and so very much bitable, not that she'd ever let him before. He wondered if he could get away with it now. She panted lightly, her heartbeat maintaining a steady thumping, although he noticed whenever he ran a finger down her back it sped up just a bit. And he had to admit there was still a bit of pride, some sick part of him that made him harder knowing she was still worried that he was behind her where she couldn't see him.

“Whatever shall I do with you? Not listening when I ask? All I wanted was for you to tell me what you wanted”

She shifted back against him, no doubt an attempt to brush his cock against her backside, which would threaten to break him, call quits on the game, let her get what she wanted, tempt him to stop and fuck her now. And she'd almost had him to, even in a position like this she was quick.

“Naughty girl” He whispered “Won’t ask, won't listen. What’s a bloke supposed to do huh?” He questioned.

“Spike please “She whined, rolling her hips against the pillow below her and gods did he want to be that pillow right now.

“Begging won't work. Can't let you defy me like that. Not very nice for little girls to disobey their Master’s And he tensed as he said the title, testing its weight, gauging her reaction to it. Buffy was such a strong girl with a troubled past when it came to her ex'es and men in general, including himself. The names weren't essential to the game, but he figured he could at least try some to see how she reacted to them. If she didn't like them, he'd drop it all together. When her head swiveled round, eyes wide, that look of 'what the hell' across her features, the Dom mask dropped in an instant.

“No good?” He asked softly and she shook her head. “Daddy?” This one gaining a vehement shake of the head. Right, stupid blighter. Course she wouldn't like that one, to be honest he wasn't a big fan of it himself. “Sir?” She looked at him, green eyes glittering as they bore into him and his soul, like she was asking the damn thing a philosophical question. He watched her lips whisper the word, testing it for herself, to see if it could easy fall from her lips. Perhaps this was wrong of him, trying to make such a strong-willed spitfire like her submit and give him power. But really, he had no power here, it was all her. He'd do anything and everything she wished or nothing at all. He'd stop at the turn of a dime, scoop her into his arms and go back to worshiping her the moment she wished. But finally, she gave him a tiny nod, and with that permission she gave up some of that power, let him take it from her. And if that wasn't the greatest stroke to his ego he'd ever known, he wasn't sure what was.

“Need to hear you say it kitten, it’s important that I hear your consent”

There was a brief silence, save for only her heavy panting. He wasn't even breathing himself, couldn't. Was sure that in that moment she'd reconsidered what she'd just given to him. And bleeding hell he'd no right to ask it of her after what he'd put her through. What he did to her and could never take back. **_It._** He knew he didn't deserve this, deserve her. Deserve the forgiveness that she was offering. And the thought dawned on him. What if she wasn't forgiving him? What if she was just accepting punishment for back then? Conceding to him because of what happened in that bathroom last year. It all came back to him in a flash

Christ he couldn't let her do that, not if that was the case. How could she even let herself think about it after what he'd done.

She started to turn around, her head looking over her shoulder with a smile on her face. And it looked like an honest to god Buffy smile, little white teeth showing, mirth in her eyes.

“I'm okay with this Spike. I want this. Want you”

He'd like to say his fears evaporated, that all his trepidation's and flashbacks just disappeared, but they weren't. A big part of him was worried that as soon as he started it was going to trigger her, take her back to that place. He couldn't bear to see her in that pain again, that haunted looking her eye when she asked him why she'd never be able to love him. He'd stake himself right then and there. He nearly bloody called it off. But she expressed her consent, looked happy as she did, professed that she wanted this. And he had reason to believe Buffy, this superior being, this stronger creature, certainly stronger thran himself, had already moved past this. She'd had months, almost a year now to deal with this, mostly on her own. He had no right to doubt that over that past year she had the intelligence and strength and grit to make her own goddamn decisions on what Buffy needed and what Buffy wanted. If she had moved past this, then he needed to respect that, move on with her. Because if dragged her back down into self-doubt, back to the place she was? She'd crumble all around him and she'd lose herself again and he couldn't let that happen.

She'd done something he never expected and forgiven him, told him that the past was the past and had moved on. Maybe she was fully healed from it and maybe she wasn't, he certainly wasn't. It still tortured his crimson stained soul every day, but he lived with it and now he was sure that he needed to move on from it.

“Okay” He said softly rubbing soothing circles in the dimples of her back with both hands. “But before we go any further. We need a safe word. Something to be used if either of us becomes uncomfortable with anything the other does”

He felt her shift under him, and she was spinning around to face him. She moved closer to him and he didn't hesitate a second, taking her into his arms as she crawled into his lap, resting her head against his chest. Christ how had he gotten so lucky? All he ever wanted was to have good relationship with a woman. He'd tried with Dru. He tried so hard, gave his princess everything she could have wanted, pretty clothes and playthings, pretty men (even though it killed him), carnage and bloodshed, jewels, affection.... but she’d never taken that from him. Oh, sure she tried, in her own mad way, and he'd lived with the false reality of it. Perhaps it was the influence of his genteel time or his poncy poet self, but the ideal of treasuring his lady, treating her good and proper, taking care of her had never left him.

“I've heard about that in movies and stuff” She finally said after a few moments of just comfort hugging.

“'S real lamb. It’s a way to signal your partner to either slow down or stop completely. Makes it so everyone stays safe, doesn't get pressed past their limits”

“Did you have one before?” She questioned curiously nuzzling into him

“No. Not really. Vampires don’t often follow the rules or courtesies like humans do. And the rest of my nest, my family, they were particularly aloof bout that sort of thing” He sneered bitterly “Vampires do what they want luv”

“Were things bad for you?” She asked cautiously

“For the first couple decades yeah…the curse of being the fledgling of the group. 'S like being the coffee bitch at the office but with a lot of restrains and cocks and cunts. But it’s in the past luv. It wasn't always like that and truthfully, I rather enjoyed some of it. I've always been sort of wired that way, aiming to please no matter who it was” And for a moment he fell back into memories. It could be rather pleasant sometimes. With Darla gone most of the time it left Dru and Angelus. Although Angelus tended to stick to his own sire, he could never fully let Dru go, never let him forget that Dru was not solely his. In the beginning he was a big part of their games, as he was still showing poor Willy who was the alpha male of the nest.

Sometimes it was him dominating Dru and Angelus would merely watch. Those were the lucky days. Often he would more than just watch, he'd join in and it would be him and Dru tag teaming him with Angelus running the show. One particular, not so pleasant memory bubbled up from the cauldron of his mind. It had to have been only years after he was sired, the Whirlwind was heading east, making their way to Russia, wreaking havoc in some small Czech town. He'd just returned from a week's retreat by himself, away from the rest of the Whirlwind only to find Darla was gone and Angelus had been torturing his girl for a week.

_He made his way into the dingy house they'd made their nest. Already threatening to fall apart from its lack of sturdy design, not to mention the physical results of the fighting and vicious sex that had the whole place in shambles._

_“Dru” He called, not bothering to wipe the blood from his now human mouth, not like he needed manners anymore. He was free of the constricting binds of high life society. “Sweetheart?” He called and made his way to the building’s basement. Usually used as a storage room for peasants but made a nice sunless retreat when they slept for the day. “Where are you my wicked goddess?” He navigated his way down the stairs and gently pushed open the door to the room the two vamps had been sharing. She was sitting there at her vanity, facing away from him, playing with one of her dollies. Blindfolding the wretched thing._

_“Dru. Darling. Your Spike is back” He announced._

_She turned to him then, a piercing wickedness in her sightless eyes and he got an uneasy feeling from her._

_“What’s the matter sweetling?”_

_But then she lunged. Feral and hissing she shifted mid stride, amber eyes wide and wild and within seconds she was on him, slamming him into the wall next to the door, her teeth sinking into his jugular and tearing his throat to shreds. She tore it open, blood spraying the walls, skin flapping everywhere, and he couldn't even scream because she'd torn his vocal cords too. She sucked down his borrowed blood greedily and then she was ripping everything else as well. His clothes slashed to little ribbons, his skin rend and clawed. Deep wells of blood formed where she raked her dagger like nails across it. She kissed him then, tearing open his lips, nearly biting off his tongue. A small part of him was turned on enough by her ferocity, enough that he was half hard and she took advantage of it. She dropped to her knees, locked him in place and started sucking. But it turned to gnashing and biting and he was worried his cock wasn't going to make it. He tried to stop her, but his furious beating of her shoulders only spurred her on and the only sound he could make was the gurgling of blood from his throat._

_It only got worse from there as Angelus entered the room with a cynical smirk on his face._

_“She's a beauty ain't she Willy. Tied her up the entire time you were gone. No blood for our dear girl” And he chuckled darkly as she continued ravishing his groin, biting and tearing his sac and he screamed a bloody gurgle. And then he heard the sound of metal unclasping and Angelus was at his back and shoving himself in with no warning. And all the while when she didn't have her teeth clasped around him, she was chastising him “Bad Doggie. Bad Doggie. Wretched Boy”_

When he came back, she was gazing up at him with the concerned look in her watery green eyes, like somehow, she'd seen the awful memory.

“All in the past” He deadpanned “But it’s why I'm going to be insistent on this. I can't be the one to hurt you, not again”

“You won’t” She reassured and wrapped her arms tightly around him, locking around his back. After a moment of just breathing him in she spoke again. “What do you suggest?”

“Usually its somethin' that won’t come up normally when we’re doing a scene like this. Something off the wall”

“Like pineapple?” She questioned in the cute girly voice of hers and he couldn't help but chuckle.

“Could be. Or more traditionally the colors yellow and red are used. Yellow means your reaching your limit and need to stop soon, red means everything stops now. Its whatever you want”

She seemed to think on it a minute. Repeating the words against his chest, soft puffs of her hot breath warming his room temperature body.

“I think I like red and yellow. Seems easy enough. And... not too weird” She said sheepishly

“Right. Same goes for me then”

“I uh...have a question”

“Course luv. Ask away. Won't start until your completely comfortable”

She pulled back from a little, and he could see her face was a little flushed. Poor dear. Not used to talking about this kind of thing.

“If I can't talk...or...can't breathe. How can I tell you if it’s too much?”

“If you can't talk, we make a physical signal. Tapping out's the best way” He used two fingers and double tapped her on her arm, enough for to notice it but not to hurt, “But you might not always be able to if you’re in a position that doesn't allow for it”

“Could hum something” He said thoughtfully. “Even if you can't speak, should be able to tell, especially if it’s something recognizable”

“Believe?” The words out of her mouth before she could even think about them. He felt his eyebrow nearly go off his face. “You’re kidding? Cher?”

“Well uh...” She started, face flushed “My roommate....in college.... before Willow. She kept playing it over and over...I kind of have an aversion to it now. It’s not something I'd ever catch myself dead singing”

“Right....Cher it is”

“What if I can't breathe?” She asked after another few moments of silence.

“That one’s mite easier. If you can tap me, like I showed you earlier, do that. If not.... I’ll hear your heartbeat luv. Know when it’s too much...but”

“I trust you” She stated without a moment’s hesitation finishing for him. She locked eyes with him again, firm and full of understanding. Such strength, such brutal honesty. He couldn't detect a lick of denial from her. No subtle twitches indicating that she was lying, no hitch in her breath. Just words. Those three words that meant just as much, if not more to him than I love you. Because even though he had this soul, the wretched man who controlled his body and the demon within still couldn't believe that she truly trusted him, not after everything he'd done. His eyes felt wet, hadn't known the tears had come until there were waterworks and Christ what a poncy bugger he was. But there she was, kissing his shoulder, his neck, his jaw, his cheek, his eyelids. Tasting his bitter tears as they rolled down his cheek.

“That's what this is about right?” She asked, her little voice so quiet as she tucked herself into the curve of his neck “Trust?”

He cleared his throat. “'S right lamb” His voice hoarse.

“And do you trust me?”

“With my life” He answered without hesitation, surprising himself with how easily it rolled off his tongue. The only person he'd ever trusted had been his mother, his human mother before he'd turned her. He hadn't even trusted Dru. Couldn't. Trust was putting faith in another being, something he'd never thought to be possible, hadn't wanted to be possible ever again. Because he couldn't stand the feeling of being let down.

“Well good then” She said with a sweet little smile and then ducked back into his shoulder, her words becoming muffled. “Do we start now?” And she started pulling away from him, backing up to a sitting position in front of him, kneeling between his outstretched legs.

“Oh yes pet. I believe I was in the middle of punishing you. All I wanted was for you to tell me what you wanted. 'S not hard is it now? Bet you could easily tell me you wanted some new frilly little togs or something to eat. What makes this so hard?”

“It’s...well I... It’s so....embarrassing...and dirty. And the word thing. Buffy and words.... very not mixy”

“Noticed that” He said with a snort

“Hey!” And she pouted

“What I tell you about that lip?” He growled and she sucked it right back in. “Now you listen here. Anything you tell me is between just you and me. I need to know what you want, not because I want to laugh at you or tell you you’re wrong but because it’s my job to make you feel nothing but the deepest pleasure while your under my care”

“So, I'm a job then?” She questioned playfully

He sighed in desperation “No you infuriating chit....” Running fingers through his un-gelled curls. Bloody hell. Had he forgotten to slick them back after he'd left her to run out and get the piercings? What was this girl doing to him?

“Spike” She spoke softly and grabbed his scared hand with her own, threading her fingers through his and rubbing her thumb against his palm. “I know” He stared for a minute at the interlocking scars. Twisting together like tree branches, strong, ancient, boundless. Just like them. He laughed internally, already thinking of poncy lyrics in his head.

“On your belly then” He instructed softly, bringing their interlocking hands to his lips and kissing her chastely, before withdrawing his fingers and helping her to turn over. He slipped a pillow back under hips.

“Comfy?” He asked tenderly, letting her know that their game hadn't yet started but he needed to ease her into now.

She rolled her neck and shoulders, shifted her hips and wiggled her ass in front of his face.

“Yes” She smiled knowingly

Cheeky wench. God did he love her feisty attitude, that wild and passionate look in her eyes, the sultry smile her lips curled into. And yet she still retained that young naivety, that innocent look of a girl that despite her chosen destiny, her brushes with death, the hardness of the life around her, the bitterness of love, was still just a girl, still nervous about something as simple something new in her sex life.

“Yes what?” He pressed

And this was it. This was the moment of truth for him. He knew he was probably overreacting, making a much bigger deal about this in his head then he needed to be, knew that she had given him very clear signs that she was okay with this, wanted this. But on good conscience he still felt as though he should give her one more chance to back out. One more chance to tell him no. Couldn't bare if he caused her harm or trauma like last time. He needed to make sure she was absolutely certain before they got into some dangerous territory, not that he would start her out in the deep end of the pool tonight, but he was worried that even things he considered small would be too much for her.

He waited for her to tell him no more, flip over, give him the cold shoulder and tell him this wasn't for her. And in a heartbeat, he'd go right back to holding her against his chest, breathing in her scent, and return to something comfortable, familiar, normal.... safe. And he would be okay with it. This wasn't necessary for him. He'd like it to be incorporated but if he was going to be in a real relationship with Buffy and god did he love thinking those words, and she didn't want it anymore, he'd give it up altogether.

After all, she had expressed other interests of the kinky variety and he would be pleased as punch to let her explore those as she wished. But he let it hang here in the balance. Gave her one more chance to back out. Gave her complete control of the scene. Because she was always the one with the power between them.

Then the words came. They were small, tentative, barely even a whisper, but they were there.

“Yes...sir”

It hung heavy in the air, weighted down with its significance. Spike took a moment to savor it, take in the implication. The Slayer was giving up power over to him, trusting herself to his administrations, his care. He also had to take a second to suppress the demon, force him down. He had no place in these games, at least...not right away. As he got him under control, he looked at the girl in front of him, on hands and knees and found that the Dom masque he'd kept hidden away for so long slipped easily back into place, like it had never been removed in the first place.

“Been a bad little kitten. Not listening. I don't particularly like when I'm not obeyed. All I asked was for you to tell me what you wanted. What do you suppose I do about that so that you don't do it again? How can I get you to remember my lesson?”

He asked, voice low, running feather light touches down her back

“I uh...I dunno” She answered in a quiet whisper, a bit louder than before. Her heart was steady, slowly beating in her chest but coming down in hard thumps against her rib cage. Had he been chasing her; he'd have heard it from a mile away. Her breathing picked up too, shallower than it was. Was she excited or scared? He didn't taste the luscious smell of fear.

“Oh...I think you do” He placed his right hand on the swell of her ass, cupping her, taking a moment to ogle her supple young form. His little Buffy, the Chosen One, strong, proud and fierce on hands and knees before him. Sleek, toned ass presented to him like the perfect bloody present, her pretty pink pussy on display for him. Already he could see the wetness of her desire and smell her sweet perfume.

“Gorgeous from this angle too” He murmured, ghosting fingers over the heated flesh of her hairless lips earning a small whimper from his girl.

He had seen her a lot from this angle before during their power struggle of fucking after she'd come back from the grave. This was her preferred position during those times together and he hated that he understood why she'd liked it like this. In this position, she didn't have to look at him and could pretend that someone, anyone else in the world was fucking her but him. She was ashamed. Ashamed that it was him, ashamed of herself and the way that he made her feel. So, she made him fuck her from behind where it was less intimate and he wasn't able to see her face. Some part of him, deep down in the blackest pit of his heart, the part that was still a little bit evil (and let him nick his booze and ciggies and to nip on the local townies without tearing his soul apart) resented her the tiniest bit for taking away the full joy and love he had for this position with her. He couldn't fully enjoy it, not when she had used it as a way to escape him.

He loved it because of how animal in nature, how bestial it was, and he bloody loved the possessiveness of it. Loved driving in tip to base in hard solid strokes as his partner screamed beneath him, devastated by his generous length. But part of him hated her for using it as a way to punish him so that she could distance herself from him all those times.

He shook off that line of thought, nothing good could come from it anyways. He was in a new place now. Their relationship now was like night and day. Now it was about reintroducing her to sex this way so that it wasn't a punishment for him, but a gift to her. For now, he decided to focus on reprimanding her. He wasn't entirely sure how she would take the punishment aspect. Her moods could be almost as mercurial as his own and he found it highly unlikely that she'd never received physical punishment by her parents’ hand, unlike himself. He'd start off; light and easy for her first time. Short and sweet to see how she reacted. And it was only pure coincidence that such a short punishment would allow him to get back inside her faster.

“I'll have you take six for not listening” He said firmly, spreading his hand across the entirety of one cheek. “Count”

He heard her sharply inhale a breath.

In on smooth motion he drew his hand back and came down with an open palm across her flesh. The familiar sound resounded throughout his tiny flat and he had to stop himself from moaning. She released the breath she had been holding and in took another quick one, her body jolting in response to the unexpected feeling. He heard the sudden change in pace of her heart, more staccato in nature. But still she rocked back against him afterwards and there was no sign of her admitting her safe word. He waited. Seconds ticked by, moments of complete silence save for their breathing, not at all what he'd asked from her. He was about to lecture for her, add onto her punishment when he heard her voice, timid and scratchy.

“O..one”

He grinned, eyes rolling back as he delighted in the pleasure of it all. Switching to the other cheek, still virgin to his touch he slapped her the same way as the first. This time, her response came quicker.

“T..two”

Both cheeks were the same lovely shade of light pink, like the color of her face when she blushed which he hadn't failed to notice she was doing a lot more of lately. He could already start to feel the heat coming from her skin. By counts three and four she had started to become more confident. She no longer stuttered when she counted and she wantonly moved against him after he came down on her, hips swaying and ass wiggling in his face. Her breathing was short, but he could tell from the way it hitched now that she was anticipating his strokes not out of loathing or fear that came from his swing, but because she wanted it.

He could practically hear her body begin to sing beneath him. Blood pumping violently in time with the concerto of her pleasure, rushing through spiderwebs of sweet iron filled veins, arteries and capillaries.

“Doing so good kitten. Almost done” He said to her in an authoritative tone but couldn't help but purr at her too.

He smacked her again, maintaining his alternating pattern, giving time to let the other cheek sting a little bit less when he struck it next.

“Five” She moaned, taking the hit in stride, practically begging for them down.

 _Should have gone to ten_ He thought to himself a small grin on his face, reveling in the color her taunt cheek turned as he struck the last blow. _Should have known the girl would like it. Knew she could take it._ Her cheek turned a dark pretty pink, almost the same color as her beautiful inner lips.

He knew very well he could put more strength behind it, would have her nearly black and blue if he wanted, and if she wanted that later then by all means he would give it to her, but not now. Now was just about making it pleasurable for them both. He could see though that she was enjoying this. Could see her wetness leaking out of her, sliding down her thighs, making a glorious mess of his sheets below her. That was it, he was never going to wash them damned things. Never wanted her smell to leave him.

He drew back for the final blow and landed it. She let out a shameless moan in response.

“Sssiiixxxx” The number sliding from her lips and he swore that he'd never heard a number sound so sexy before in his life. She rocked against him, wiggled and gyrating, wordlessly proclaiming her desires. Her heartbeat was pounding in his head, fast, fluttering.... intoxicating.

“Spiiiiike” She moaned needily

“Good girl” He praised, running cooling fingertips over the heated flesh of her pretty cheeks, loving the soft whimpers she made and the way she moved into his touch. “What is it kitten. Something else you want?” He prompted

He needed her to say the words. He wasn't opposed to dealing out more punishment, if only to see her skin bloom as red as the blood that flowed beneath her creamy skin as it was brought to the surface. But that's what this lesson was all about, getting her to tell him what she wanted. He wanted to give her the chance to do so before he started doling out more smacks.

“Please. Please Sir. Want you. Fuck me” She keened. Her head dropping low, shoulders trembling a bit from holding herself up, breath coming out in short pants. Just like that, she'd slipped into the role like a natural and he found it so goddamn erotic.

“Want you too kitten” He murmured. He grabbed one throbbing cheek in each of his hands, earning a heady whine from his girl before lining himself up with her dipping entrance and roughly impaling himself in one stroke. His brain went fuzzy, and for a moment he was sure he was going to black out. Already her tight inner muscles were clamped around him, pulling him deeper and twitching around him as her wet heat welcomed him home.

“Christ luv. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you enjoyed that” And he swore the sound she was making was sobbing, crying out in pleasure as he took her.

Suffice to say her knew the feeling, after all those endorphins and the adrenaline was released in response to the physical pain and riding those highs straight to orgasm. From past experience he knew it wouldn't be long for her, not with the way her muscles were tightening around him already. Which was good, because after not coming the first round, his poor cock was aching for release.

She mewled beneath him as he took her, grabbed one hip roughly and pistoned his hips in and out of her.

“Spike. Spike. Spike” She chanted every time he withdrew and entered her again. His pronounced hip bones slamming into her fat-less cheeks, the sound of skin slapping against skin all the more pronounced. The thought of making sure she got more food in her briefly crossed his mind but was quickly swallowed by the all-consuming thoughts of watching her being impaled by his cock. And how refreshing it was to see her finally just giving over to her lust, nothing else on her mind, wild, crazed and completely lost to pleasure. It was such an aphrodisiac to see her like this.

“'S it baby. 'S it. Just let go. Let it all go “He groaned, his free hand snaking around her leg. He cupped her pussy, dexterous fingers gliding through her slippery folds to brush her clit. Her entire body quivered under his touch as she slammed back against him, squealing as he worked her hard-little nub, tight Slayer muscles constricting him and nearly bloody breaking him in half. He basked in the pain pleasure that came with it.

“M..more sir...please” She moaned between heavy breaths

He chuckled darkly above her.

“Greedy little thing aren’t you. What is it you want kitten?”

He slid his fingers through her soaked flesh once more, pinching her clit as he left it.

“Ahh!” She gasped as he did so, her entire body trembling under the combined pleasure of it all. “Neck” She ground out. “Please” Pant. “Sir” Pant “Please”

He nearly shifted then, felt his fangs drop and his face start to change. But he threw his head back and willed the demon away. No. Not now.

 _Not what she's asking for you stupid tosser_ He scolded _She didn't ask you to bite her. Can't betray her trust like that. Gotta wait till she asks._

What she was asking for was going to require all her trust in him. It was something he had never done before. Sure, his dark princess would ask him to hold her by the throat as he fucked her, but as he told Buffy earlier, you couldn't asphyxiate someone who was already dead. Vampires didn't need to breath. It was a power thing mostly, something he didn't often have with Drusilla.

But here? Now? With Buffy? He did have that power and she was begging him for it. And god would he make it good for her, show her that there was nothing wrong with what she liked if it turned her on and got her off harder than she ever had before.

“Of course. Baby's been such a good girl. She deserves a reward”

He stilled his movements within her, groaning at the loss of the sweet friction of moving within her but he could still feel her gripping his dick for all it was worth. He let go over her hip, a rush of pride running through him as he noticed the bruise that was blooming there from the strength of his grip on her, gliding hand to the underside of her, looping under both of her hips. He tugged ever so gently so her trembling arms didn't cause her to fail and fall on her face, drawing her from her all fours position and unfolding her to pull her back against him until her ass rested in his lap. He then steadied her, his large hand spread wide between her breasts, over her sternum in this new position where she straddled his lap, back flush against his front.

“Close your knees” He commanded, and she immediately obeyed. His eyes crossed as she did so. It made her impossibly tight, effectively trapping him deep within her. Her reaction was a desperate breathy whine as she found this position did not allow for her to move much and lucky for him required him to do all the work. The arm around her hips settled around her waist, holding her steady. The hand at her sternum dropped to cup her neglected breasts and he tended to them alternating between kneading the tender flesh and plucking at her hard little nipples.

From in front of him her heard her chanting. Felt the vibrations of her pleas of 'yes, yes, yes' and the hammering of her heart as his hand slid higher, gliding over the sweat glistened skin of her sternum, her clavicle until it finally rested over the hollow of her throat. He nibbled at the back of her neck, kissed the notches of her spine as lithe fingers wrapped around her throat. Pulling her hair over her right shoulder he laid more kisses against the exposed curve of her neck, behind her ear, the shell of her ear, all the while tightening his hand slowly, increasing his grip.

He could hear when her body started to struggle. Her breath coming out shallower, trying desperately to get more oxygen.

“Spike” She gasped. He could feel her shifting against him as she subconsciously tried to remove herself from danger. He tasted the release of epinephrine when her body started to go into flight mode, the heady aroma of fear. The predator within him reveled in her struggle as he could feel her starting to gasp for breath, life slowly draining from her.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump was the sound of her frantic little heart, desperately trying to push any oxygen to her lungs.

“I've got you. You’re okay. I've got you” He murmured nuzzling into her hair, reassuring her that despite what her body was telling her, he would not let it go too far. He just had to wait for the right moment, until her sweet little body was just about to give up and submit to its fate. That moment she had told him about, where for those few seconds everything was calm and all she could feel was him against her. She was still weakly wiggling her hips against him and that combined with the wetness he felt coating his cock and dripping down his thighs let him know she was still enjoying this. Christ, he'd always known that the Slayer would be an animal in bed and that she was bound to be a little kinky but he never thought she would be into this, surrendering so completely to him.

He was ready to burst beneath her, impossibly hard, locked tightly in the tight embrace of her cunt, his cock pulsing deep within her, balls tight, and ready to let go but he held off, used all of the training he'd received and willpower to delay his oncoming release.

And then the moment came. Her breathing became slow. Her heart, exhausted under the pressure diminished to a dull thump....thump.....thump......thump, breathy moans becoming little whistles of air, barely there.

“Sweetheart” He whispered “Lover. Gonna be so good for you” He rumbled kissing her hot skin, laying cooling kisses. “Can feel it can't you. Ready little kitten?” He felt a tiny squeeze against the top of his thigh as her response. In that moment he closed his lips around his mark on her neck, tonguing the tiny scars, released her throat, thrust up roughly into her and rapidly flicked her clit. She exploded above him. She gasped, in taking huge breath, entire body quivering, slowly recovering from being strangled at the same time as experiencing a body shaking orgasm. He grabbed her waist tightly and snapped his hips into her in desperation and when she finally was able to catch her breath she screamed.

“Spike!” She shrilly cried out, unable to do anything but let him completely take advantage of her boneless body. He was almost one hundred percent sure his poor prick was going to be bruised after this, perhaps even broken. Not like that was going to stop him anyhow. Her cunt was hot and tight, but her body was completely loose and pliant. He didn't stop the punishing pace of his strokes until she was clenching around him so tight that finally it sent him over the edge. And when he did, he came and came and came into her, throwing his head back, nearly blacking out. When she had pumped him for all he was worth his back bowed, muscles all trembling, balls tingling, and he fell back heavily on the mattress. Gasping for breath he cradled her as he rolled to his side, removing himself from her heavenly vise, still half hard even after he swore that was the hardest he'd ever come in his life. He curled up behind her, pulling her flush against him, tucking her into his body and cuddling with her after some of the best sex he'd ever had in his life.

She didn't stir for a while, her breathing slowly evening out, her pulse returning to normal. He nuzzled the back of her neck, kissing and licking at her salty skin, buying his nose in her sweat dampened blonde hair, cock still firmly pressed against her backside. Her skin was still flushed with her pounding blood and he could feel it seeping into his own pallid flesh.

“Doesn't that thing ever give it a rest?” She finally asked voice rough and gravelly, that trademark snark of hers coming back in full force, lightly pressing her hips back against his prick, which he was pretty sure just revitalized the damned thing.

“Never around you” He murmured against her back, smiling into her. “You were bloody magnificent luv. How do you feel? Wasn't too hard on you, was I?”

He felt her stirring, turning to face him, face still flush, pupils still fully dilated as she came down from her orgasm and he couldn't stop himself from reaching out and stroking her cheek, awed by the beautiful women in front of him.

She nodded, smiling and nuzzling into his hand.

“I feel amazing” She muttered, her voice soft and sweet. “That was a thousand times better than last night. I didn't think it could be that good. And you? You were great. Rough. Fair...and incredibly sexy”

“Ta lamb. Just want to do right by you” He said with a smile back. Her smile was so infectious.

“God” She sighed leaning away from him. “Is it always like that?” She asked and he loved the awed sound of her voice, the breathy groan that followed, like she was reliving it again.

“Can be. Has to be done right, otherwise you’re just strangling and causing pain. There's no pleasure in it if you’re outright trying to kill someone. If you wait for just the right moment...well you get the idea”

“Well that was incredible. I've been missing out”

“More where that came from pet. Loads more. You just say the word” He sat up then, reluctantly pulling away from her to search for his cigarettes, the craving for one hitting him full force. He grabbed them from the floor, along with his trademark lighter and smoothly lit one up breathing in deeply.

She crawled into his lap, curled up and draped herself over his legs and rested her head upon the thick muscle of his thigh.

“Gotta have a talk now though love. Some things we didn't go over before we started. Important things if you want to keep exploring”

“Like more safe-words?” She asked cocking an eyebrow

“Sorta. More like I want to discuss limits. Things you won’t do. Things I won’t do”

“There's things you won’t do?” She said with a sly grin.

“Bite your tongue” He growled playfully.

She was quiet for a moment before she spoke up again, a hint of nervousness in her voice, a quivering that let him know she was back to unfamiliar territory.

“I haven't been exposed to much of this. I've heard a few things from Anya....cause she never shut her yap about her and Xander’s sex life...much with the eww...but other than that and some of the things we used to do.... your looking at vanilla girl”

“Vanilla's just as sweet luv” He reassured and meaning every syllable

She looked at him shyly. “Chocolates my favorite though” And he barked with laughter.

“Christ...can't tell if we’re still talking about sex or we've moved onto food now. Why does it not surprise me you have a sweet tooth?”

“I'm a girl. Of course, I love chocolate. But we can talk about food preferences later. I definitely have some questions for you about that. Right now. Sexy stuff”

“If that's what you want. There's no need to fret about any kinks. Can list out some things. You just say yay, nay or maybe. We'll suss it out right quick. And if you need any explanations, just ask”

“Yeah...okay” She agreed hesitantly.

He looked her in the eye and saw the trepidation and pleaded that she wouldn't be scared off now, not because some of the kinks in the known community were downright obscene, because they really truly were, but because he knew about so many of them. He blew out a puff of smoke and sighed heavily.

_Here goes nothing you perverted bastard. Time to corrupt the mind of the youth._

“Right then...Fire?”

“In sex? Seems kind of dangerous with the very flammable undead around...not to mention...ouch?”

“Rather like a bit of danger” He huffed

“You’re a strange vampire”

“Just answer pet”

“Definitely not”

“Food?” He questioned.

“Like chocolate and whipped cream?” And he watched her eyes rake over him, linger extra-long at his chest and groin.

“Champagne and Strawberries too” He murmured

“I'd be down for that” And he nodded

“Costumes? Role play...that sort of thing?”

She shuddered.

“I don't really have the best experience with it”

And it clicked. Halloween. The night she was transformed into a dainty helpless Victorian woman. No wonder she was opposed to it.

“Can always say no pet”

“It’s a maybe” She answered “It might be different if it’s not magically forced on me”

“Why'd you wear that thing anyways. Didn't seem like it was much your style. Always imagined something...tougher on you”

She looked him hard in the eyes, a haunting look in those eyes that made the vibrant green of her eyes seem ghostly and he had a feeling without her saying anything that it had something to do with dear ole Peaches. But judging from the look in her eyes she didn't want to talk about it.

“Doesn't matter” She deadpanned and just like that, that part of the conversation was over.

“Right. Moving on then” Removing them from the downward spiral that path was likely to lead. “Knife play” He suggested

“Like..cutting?”

“Not so much. More like just using knives to enhance sex. It’s mostly the idea of danger, that and the cold of the metal. Running it along the skin”

“You'd like it, wouldn't you?”

“Done to me? Yeah.” He said without hesitation. “But this isn't about me”

“It’s a maybe for me”

“Bondage?” And he eyed her cautiously, trying to gauge her reaction. After the stupid stunt that he pulled before, he wasn't sure how she was going to react to the idea of it. He desperately wanted to be able to tie her up, chain her down. God that would be a delight. But he realized that the likelihood of that was fat to none, not after he'd exposed it to her in the worst possible way.

“Yes” She answered, no hint of hesitation and he was completely awestruck. He felt redeemed, trusted, loved. A litany of ideas went through his lust drugged mind then, each more perverse in nature then the last and he had to draw himself back. List. Right. He was going down a list.

“Bestiality”

“Say what?”

“Sex with animals” He answered shortly. Not his cup of tea.

“Ewww!” She shrieked. “That's completely gross and obscene Spike!”

“Oh yeah” He chuckled “That’s Red”

She knocked him on the shoulder, laying into him. Seemed she had complete control over her muscles again. “Double gross! He wasn't like that when they....and that's totally not the case now anyways! Kennedy is just..”

  
“A Bitty Slayer. Yeah, I remember. The feisty one with the tongue ring”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course, you'd notice that”

“Not blind pet. Very observant. Sides. Only have eyes for you and she plays for the other team”

She scoffed but didn't say anything else, seeming pleased with his answer.

“Golden showers?”

“Do I even want to know what that is?” She questioned, the high-pitched hint of disgust flavoring her voice.

“What’s it sound like?” A devious smirk on his face.

“Hard pass” She shivered. “Besides....do you even?

“Nope”

“Moving on then”

“Blood” And he paused, Meeting her eyes wearily.

“You mean am I okay with you biting me? Cause that's kind of already happened and you don't see me running for the hills”

“Not just biting. Biting is in a category all on its own. No this is blood in general worked into sex. Yours and mine”

“Kinda hard not to say yes when your boyfriend is a vampire” She said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Again luv, not about me. This is about you, what you feel comfortable with. You say no and it never happens again”

“Spike...I'm saying yes. Don't make it a bigger deal than it is okay Fang Face?” She said with a smile, playing with him. “What’s next?”

God what a glorious creature she was. He was never going to get tired of her calling him that. The boyfriend, the lover...not just the dirty little secret that she wouldn't even tell her friends about. Every time she said it, he swore he felt his useless heart twitch in his chest.

The list was pretty long. As long as there were people in the world there would always be lots of little kinks and fetishes, something for every occasion.

Scat. Big No. Vomit? Also big no. Sex in water? Sure. Sex while intoxicated? Sounds fun. Phone sex. Spike you have to have a phone first. Age play? Maybe? Kinda already did a bit. Body painting? Sounds fun. Fisting? Is that what it sounds like? Yes. Then no.

“Anal?” He cocked his head to the side staring intently.

“Umm yeah...I've never done it before...but I'll try it with you” She admitted with a whisper, flushing and we wondered what had caused her to turn that lovely shade of pink. What had gone through the pretty little head of hers?

“Sensation play and deprivation” And when she gave him a confused look he continued “Blindfolds, ice, hot wax, massage oil, earplugs...things of that nature”

“What’s the point of all that?” She asked

“Deprive yourself of one sense, the others come back stronger. Can't see? Can't hear? It puts your whole body on edge, makes you feel everything so much better”

“That's a definite yes”

He continued on.

“Humiliation. Name calling, Degradation...stuff like that”

“I..I don't think so”

“Got something in common then” He muttered

“What do you mean? Is that one of yours?” Her head quirked to the side, seemingly interested in his admittance.

“Yeah” He agreed “Don't have many hard limits, told you as much before. I'm open to just about anything. But not that. Don't like name calling, hurtful name calling anyways. There's nothing wrong with a bit of playful fun but...” He trailed off pausing to look at her. “Think it started with Cecily but Dru did a number on me. Never been the same since”

“Oh god Spike...all this time I've....why didn't you tell me? All those months.... even just now I...” He suppressed that cruel voice in his head that told her that she was getting what she deserved for being such a bitch to him all those months before. He repeated her mantra, the past is in the past.

“Would it have mattered?” He asked in a monotone voice, trying to sound neutral about it, even though it really ate him up inside. He was used to it coming from Dru, it had hurt him even more when it came from her lips.

He looked into those shimmering jade eyes swimming with tears and saw the guilt that filled him

“No... your probably right. It wouldn't have. But it matters now” She spoke sweetly, and he let go of the resentment and felt his own eyes prickling hot with tears. He took a final puff of his cigarette, focusing on the breathing in of smoke and slow release rather than the feelings bubbling up, stubbing out the butt in his little ashtray.

“You matter now” She continued “I don't want to hurt you anymore Spike. I'm sorry for before. Sorry for all of it. No more though. No more mean names. You've got the Buffy guarantee” She said with a smile

“Can keep some of them” He mumbled. “I'll tell you if it’s gone too far”

 _Despite our past pet, I doubt you could come up with such cruel names. I've never been your Doggie_ He thought to himself, sneering inwardly at the use of his sire's nickname.

“Is there anything else for you?” She asked, steering away from the subject.

“Got to say no to things like Bestiality as well. But other than that? No. Nothing else counts as a hard limit. Been around for quite a while pet. Done a lot of things, seen a lot of things. Plus...vampire. I don't feel shame when it comes to the depravity of sex and although there are a few things that turn my stomach its few and far between. I'm open for anything”

“My sexy sexual deviant” She cooed

He flashed her a bit of teeth, curling his tongue behind them.

“Like that do you? Baby want to play?”

She giggled. Honest to god giggled and he about lost his goddamn mind.

“Fuck your adorable” He groaned and kissed her forehead “Love you beautiful girl”

“Love you too Spike” She returned.

“Could go into way more...but that's about the long and short of it. If anything else comes up, can always talk about it”

She nodded. “What now?” She asked

“You feeling okay? He asked concerned placing a hand on the curve of her hip.

“Still a little breathless and tired”

“Can rest a bit more if you'd like” He watched as the question was already forming on her lips, anticipating her so easily. “Can ask me more questions if you want” He offered and she didn't seem all that surprised when he was able to predict what she was going to say, like she was getting used to it and he didn't know whether to feel like a git for being predictable or full of pride that he could read her so well.

It was strange. At first he didn't like the questions. He didn't love the idea of her prodding around in his brain, his past. But as he laid here with her and talked to her, got to know her past the fighting and the sex he found this other pleasant side of the girl he'd fallen in love with. The girl he didn't get to have much of a connection with before because she shut him out. He wanted to know more about her and in turn he wanted her to know about him. It was strange what real love did. In the century with Dru, he didn't think she asked a single personal question and he didn't know a lick about her either. At the time it hadn't mattered. Their love was a great, wild passionate affair. What did it matter if he knew anything about the bint. It wasn't the way their relationship worked.

“Yeah okay” She said with a smile and snuggled in closer to him. And he loved that he had her like this, all of her. The strong Slayer and the young adult girl.

“You’re a big music guy right?”

Music eh? Something a little more neutral and something he was more than willing to talk about. School her in. Teach her about real music, not the crap that was on now a days.

“Certain music yeah. You've seen my collection. Mainly punk from the 70's and 80's. I like blues and jazz too. Don't care much for the shite that's on now a days, though I've heard some that's halfway decent”

“Your showing some favoritism with all those British guys though”

He shrugged “Music is music. Doesn't matter much where it comes from. It’s the lyrics that matter”

“You ever been to a cool concert?”

“Have I....” He was shocked. Awed really. “Girl...do you know how long I've been walking this earth.? Of course I've seen some good shows”

Her cute little eyebrow quickened in that typical Buffy style and he frowned

“Woodstock, Pistols at Manchester, Ramones at London Roundhouse, Live-aid” He counted off on his fingers. “God that was bloody brilliant. You can't even image the amount of people that were there. Cheerin, singing....that Freddy Mercury put on a bloody good show. Almost donated some of my dosh to the cause....almost....yeah pet. I've been to a few good ones in my time”

“Why do you like it so much? The punk music. Did you always dress like this? Or did it change you?”

“Changed with the bloody times pet. Depended on where I was, the time period” He paused to consider. “Didn't give it much thought but yeah, that's probably when I started with this kit. Dru and I visited Saint Martins School of Art in London...turned out it was the debuting gig for the Pistols. Got hooked on em. It’s a combination of things luv. The violence, the blatant disregard for the rules that society has set. Back then England was pretty tight lipped and prissy about a lot of subject matter. Sex and sexuality, women's rights, the bloody government itself. It’s not just the calamity of the music but the lyrics. The posh members of society didn't think it was very proper to sing about the things they were concerned about. Then there's the utter chaos and discord of the sound, guitars clashing, drums out of rhythm on purpose, loud and angry vocals”

He watched her as he talked, rambled more like, and he couldn't help but feel something tug at his undead heart as she was curled into him, her beautiful green eyes so focused on him, never breaking their glance, never zoning out. She wasn't yawning ot yelling at him or rolling her eyes. She was truly listening to him talk, like what he said actually mattered.

“Did you ever meet any of them?”

“No. Not really. This...celebrity bollocks, bout worshiping the ground they walk on. Bugger that. Who the fuck cares? They're just people” He got the idea he offended her in some way because the face she was making was like the world was ending.

“Why. Who'd you want to meet? One of those...god awful boy band tossers that are popular now?”

“Dorothy Hamil” She said fiercely “She's not really a celebrity per say but she won an Olympic gold medal”

“A skater?”

She turned away from him embarrassed, having to tell the story again.

“Yeah...I used to skate...before I was called. My room was pretty much a shrine to her. Dorothy dolls, Dorothy posters. Hell I even had the Dorothy Hamil haircut. And I was pretty good too. I probably could have gone somewhere with it. But nope. Nothing normal for Buffy Summers. Instead I get to slay and demons and stake vampires”

He looked at her and the way her lip quivered in the slightest bit, like she was ready to start crying.

“All I ever wanted was a normal life...school, stupid boys, regular periods, growing up with both parents and sister, skating and getting some job that made me happy and didn't kill me I don't know why I had to get picked for this” Tears forming in her eyes

He brought her closer, threaded fingers through her hair, kissed her forehead. He was being selfish, thinking that if she hadn't been called that he'd have never met her, never would have gotten to know her, to fight her and fall in love with her. He didn't understand it completely, why she would want all that boring stuff when being a Slayer was so much more gratifying, fun, wild and dangerous. If he hadn't of seen firsthand what happened to her at the end of their adventures on the Hellmouth with all the bitty Slayers, he couldn't have imagined anyone else in role. To him, there was no choice between the two. If he had to chose between his former life and his vampiric one, he'd always take being a vampire over some virgin poncy failed poet. Other than his mother there hadn't been much in his former life that he cared about, so when he became a vampire....well the whole world was open and new and....bloody brilliant.

But he could see how upset she was, more tears forming in her eyes and he had to remember that despite the fact that she acted so strong, she was still just a girl, a fairly young girl at that.

“Oh pet...easy now. It's because you’re so strong. I bet even before you were called you were the tough bird. Getting into scraps and picking fights with the bullies”

She snorted and giggled

“You'd be wrong. I was the worst! I was the popular valley girl. Self-centered, shallow and bitchy”

“Still that” He retorted

“Watch it mister. I can easily take all this away” She said gesturing to all of her, drawing his gaze to the V of her curvy hips and hairless lips.

“Can't have that” He murmured, dazed and completely entranced by her young, supple, beautiful body.

“Eyes up here” She said in a commanding voice.

He snapped them up immediately, meeting her lively green eyes, silently letting her know that she was his to command whenever she wanted and immediately noticed the shiver that went through her, that little parting of her lips and hasp of breath.

“Sounds like becoming the Slayer changed you for the better” He said breaking the moment

“I guess. I probably wouldn't have died three times before I was 21 though....and I probably wouldn't have lost my virginity to a centuries old emotionally stunted vampire” She got a forlorn look on her face “And my parents probably wouldn't have split up either”

“Hey now” He spoke up. “That wouldn't have been your fault. You can't have stopped your prat of a father from screwing some two-bit trollop, that was his bloody decision. He was a bleedin fool for giving up your mum. And that is in no way a child's fault.

“Maybe...I still feel like my being a Slayer didn't help their marriage. I got into trouble a lot and mom was always defending me. I think it caused some major rifts between them....” She paused speaking sadly and he knew she was thinking about her Mom. She lost her at one of the worst possible times, right in the middle of the fight with Glory.

“It’s not your fault pet” He reiterated looking her hard in the eyes. She was quiet for a few moments, dropping her gaze. When she spoke again her voice was quiet and weary.

“What is it with you and my mom anyways?”

He smiled at the memory of the woman. It was true. He had a thing for all the Summers women. All of them were strong and he was attracted to strength.

“Joyce was.... a true lady. Welcomed me, listened to me, always had a cuppa. I don't even like sweets and I loved her hot cocoa..” He paused and he felt a smile grace his face at her memory, listening to him complain about Dru had left him. “She reminded me of my mum”

A huge grin graced Buffy's face at his response, eyes lighting up with joy.

“Lucky for you. I have the secret family recipe”

“Woman after my own heart” He said stroking her hair

“I'll even make it for you when we get home. I need to teach it to Dawnie anyways. It’s like a rite of passage”

“Can't wait” He said softly, savoring the fact that she still woke up with him and wanted a domestic kind of life. He'd never thought he would have had that, never thought that he'd wanted it to be honest, not after becoming a vampire anyways. He always figured he would continue to roam the earth in circles with Dru, going wherever they liked, whenever they liked to. But he didn't think he could have wished it any other way now.

“I wouldn't have met my friends if I hadn't become the Slayer because I never would have moved schools. God” She sighed “I wouldn't have even associated with people like Willow and Xander at my old school and now...I couldn't imagine my life without them. They helped me save the world...ten times over. Were there for me when everything went wrong. Picked me back up when I fell down...it’s totally sucky...what happened to us in the end. I barely get to talk to them anymore”

“What they did to you was incorrigible and cowardly. Honestly, if you weren't so attached to them and they weren't cross continental I'd have ripped their bloody throats out by now”

“Spike” She said in a warning tone.

“No I mean it. Who does that in your greatest time of need. You made a decision they didn't like and they all turn their back on you. Your watcher, your bloody sister!” He was fuming, anger raced through his veins in full force as he recalled that night.

“It’s okay Spike...I've gotten over it. Mistakes were made on both sides. It sucks that it drove a wedge between us. I mean were still friends, there's just...something still there that's holding us back from being like we were before...and I did get something out of their little stunt”

“Hussat?”

“You” She stated simply. “You came after me. When everyone else had abandoned me. You still fought for me. Gave me strength to keep going. Courage to face Caleb and the First and you showed me that night that what we had could be something great. It was nice...just being held like that, waking up and you still being there”

“I'll always be there for you pet. Told you before, tell you a thousand more times. I love you. Even if it kills me, I'll be at your side. And....I don't like to admit it, not like the Scoobies have ever been any friends of mine but they're your friends so I say this because of that alone...regardless of what they've done they're still your mates. You'll always be friends. Sometimes...time is just what everyone needs. It’s what...been six months?”

“Yeah, I guess. I guess Willow and Kennedy will get tired of partying together in Rio eventually...and Xander will eventually come back too once he's figured out how to grieve”

He must have made a face because then her eyes widened.

“Oh yeah....I didn't tell you...Anya didn't make it. She died protecting Andrew”

“Tosser forgot to mention that when he came to visit” He grumbled. “Can't believe demon bird is gone. Liked that one. Bit off an oddity but she was honest, spoke her mind, didn't sugar coat things. I like that in a woman”

“Obviously” She said, her face hardening into a sneer.

“Not one of my better moments” He admitted “Can't really express how sorry I am about that pet”

“I don't think I can ever truly forgive you for that. I know we weren't together and at the time our relationship was just...icky...but what you did really hurt me. You've always been loyal guy, even at my worst you were always there. So I didn't expect it and it hit me hard. A lot harder than I was expecting anyways...and to me you were still mine”

“I don't deserve to be forgiven. I acted like a bloody berk. Didn't want to hurt you and I wasn't expecting that to happen in the first place it just....kinda did. Didn't expect the event to be televised either”

“That's not an excuse” She said harshly.

“Never said it was pet”

“And for your information it did hurt. It hurt a lot. I cried over you. You of all people. The one person who was on my side and knew what I was going through”

He hated that he hurt her. He didn't have a soul back then. It should have mattered that he'd upset her like that, he wasn't supposed to feel guilty about anything. He was a vampire for fucks sake, not some co-ed. Why should he have felt bad about sleeping with another broad after his girl had clearly dumped him. He'd done it hundreds of times when Dru kicked him out of their bed for months at a time. And yet this slip of a girl. Another bird who had never truly loved him had hurt him by turning him away. Once love's bitch, always love's bitch. Because her denial had hurt more than Dru's ever did. Maybe because deep down, he had always known it was temporary and one sided with his black goddess.

Part of him recognized that Buffy had turned him away because she herself realized that what they had was wrong. They both knew it. She vampire slayer and he a vampire should have never under any circumstance done anything more than fight each other to the death. But at every chance he'd got, he found an excuse not to kill her. Told himself he wanted one more fight with her before he sunk his fangs into her pretty little neck.

“But we decided the past was in the past right” Her voice suddenly bringing him out of his head. “The past is part of who we are but it isn't what defines us anymore”

“Right you are luv” He whispered, favoring her sweet lips, which looked to have recovered from being swollen with kisses, something he would have to fix soon enough. He could kiss this girl forever. What she lacked in experience, she made up for in raw enthusiasm and eagerness. She matched his pace; soft, sweet, rough, fervent without hesitation. Her formers were fools, giving up such a beauty.

“What's your favorite color?” She asked after a few moments of blissful silence, nothing but the sound of her breathing and heartbeat. He raised an eyebrow at that.

“Little obvious innit?”

“You could surprise me” She shrugged. “I don't know. I really don't know anything about you”

“Suppose your right. But I think you’re going to be a mite disappointed”

“It is black?”

“Or red. Dunno. Doesn't really matter to me”

“I thought you were an artist. Don't you like art and colors and things like that?”

“You seem to forget that part of me died a very long time ago”

She placed a hand on his cheek, wrapped her other hand around his waist, smoothing over each individual rib, his hips and the rested on the top of his thighs.

“And I want to get to know William as much as I do Spike. I love you both”

He grinned, nuzzling against her hand “Know how to tug on the few heartstrings I have left don't you”

“Oh come on tough guy. Take away the smoking, the bad attitude and all that leather and there's a big softie underneath”

“Oi! I will not be havin you spread that bollocks around. Take it back! I have a reputation to maintain”

“Yeah yeah. Don't worry” She said clapping him on the chest. “You’re still the big bad”

“Damn right I am. And you know what? Your three questions are up sweetheart” He growled a deviant smile gracing his face “Was gonna give you a chance for a replacement question for that last one seeing as it was utter shite, but we both know I'm not a very patient man. Want to get back to fucking you senseless now. Seems to me I made a promise that I was going to make you cum until you couldn't move and then fuck you until you couldn't walk”

He growled in the back of his throat and drew her closer.

“What do you think that's gonna take luv?” He asked nipping at her throat, chasing down the little bites with butterfly kisses.

“I'm sure” Gasp “We'll come up with something” And he loved the way that it was not just her, not just him, but them together.

“Right then. Think I'll have myself a meal” He growled darkly. He heard her gasp against him, and her hips squirmed against his. Her naked lips, still slick with her arousal despite their short reprieve brushing against his semi hard prick. Damn thing must have taken a time out while they were talking about his taste in music and her friends. But she didn't seem to care, in fact, the eager rolling of her hips told him how much she wanted to get back to it and that brought him back up to full mast in no time. The girl couldn't even begin to comprehend what she was doing to him. Never had he had a partner as glorious as her. He loved everything about her. What she was, what she did, how she tried. Her kindness and strength, the best and the worst of her.

“Wanna try something?” He questioned, muttered against her skin, pressing tender kisses down her throat, which was unsurprisingly beginning to bloom into a dark bruise from where he'd grabbed her. As much as the mark gave him pride, and a hefty bank of memories for future use, he hoped her Slayer healing would fix that up right quick or else he'd be at the end of a very pointy interrogation.

“God yes” She responded desperately running fingertips along his skull, mussing his already disheveled hair even further. He grunted in approval, loving how confident she was becoming.

“Lesson the second”

He made his way south ghosting his lips over the hollow of her throat, the pronounced jut of her clavicle, the dip of her sternum. He stopped at her heart, placing his lips against the top of her breast. Part of him would never get over the oddity of hearing a heartbeat pounding through his head, overtaking his other senses, feeling her pulse against his lips and tongue, tasting the faint traces of the iron rich blood beneath her skin. That there was a beating heart there in the first place and not the still coldness he had been used to for so long. That despite the temptation that lurked just below her skin, juicy and sweet, he had no desire, other than to make her scream in pleasure when he took the precious gift of her elixir of life from her.

Hazy blood-soaked memories from his past life came back to him from when he'd been part of the Whirlwind and tore apart the better part of Europe. He and Dru would hunt a meal and crack into their chest, prying into their thoracic cavity, sucking their life's blood straight from the frantic beating source, spurred on by his black goddess' squealing delight and mad twittering. And Christ most of the time they were alive when he'd done it, howling in agony, screaming for mercy, the rest of their rotten body shutting down from shock while hot blood gushed from their torn bodies, pure terror the only seasoning needed back then. The soul within him protested harshly at his memory and he barely managed to keep it from manifesting physically taking the form of bile in the back of his throat.

Now the only time he wanted to be inside the very alive, very blood-filled woman beneath him was when he was stuffing her full of tongue and cock...and the occasional bit of fang. But never to cause pain, only to bring pleasure.

He kissed over her beating heart one last time, listening to the contented sigh that fell from her pretty pink lips before he moved lower, nuzzling a breast and eagerly sucking a nipple between blunt teeth.

“So sweet” He whispered against her.

She hummed pleasantly from above him and he continued to swirl and manipulate the little nub of hardened flesh. There was something extremely intimate to him about sucking on a lover's nipple, making them twist, contort and arc in pleasure. He wondered if he could get Buffy off like this without any other contact. One day when he wasn't so impatient, he was resolved to try. But for now, he grabbed her underneath her armpits and flipped her around, turning her so she was sitting on top of him her feet facing towards the head of the bed.

“How are you going to...”

He grabbed her hips mid-sentence and dragged her up his hard-muscled body so that her legs were folded on either side of his face and her cunt was positioned perfectly over his waiting mouth. He couldn't help but lick his lips,

“Ohhh” She moaned as she sat atop his face.

The muscles of her legs flexed against the side of his face, her thighs clenching around his temples as she steadied herself above him desperate to hold her balance as he immediately set to devouring her. Shoving his tongue deep within her like a pointed spear, changing the shape as he buried his tongue in her, forming a cup and scooping out small mouthfuls of her arousal with every delve into her heat, lapping at her like she was an oasis in the middle of a desert and he was dying of thirst.

“H..hey...isn't that kind of gross? Your all....in there too” She whispered, like there was someone else in the room and she didn't want them to hear. He halted his feast and kissed the heated flesh around opening, loving the way she squirmed under his dark gaze and the pink her face was turning, a color not far from that of her pretty pink ass cheeks and damn if that didn't make him harder. He nudged around the outside of her folds, sucking and slurping and making the most obscene noises that he could before answering her in a low dangerous voice.

“I'm a bad” Lick “Rude” A little nibble “Depraved” His voice rumbling as he trailed his tongue through her folds “Sexual deviant luv...remember? I've got no qualms getting down and dirty, even if that means I get a bit of myself while drinking down such sweet ambrosia. Sides. Just tastes bloody good. You” A kiss to her inner thigh “Are” Another to her outer lip “Divine” He purred accenting his point with another swirl of his tongue around her sopping hole.

He laved his tongue in and around her, switching between quick darts in and out followed by slow torturous un-touching circles around her clit and long probing seeps of her flesh. He'd finish with tiny taps to her clit, enough to let her feel it, but not enough to get her anywhere fast. She panted heavily above him and he gripped harder over her toned abdomen, fingers delving into the lines of her abs and he snaked his left hand up over her thighs to stroke her lips and folds from the top, barely brushing over her hard little bud.

“Spike...spike...spike...please” She chanted rocking against his face

His fucking nymph. This beautiful creature above him, her usual tight demeanor held back by logic and trepidation was now consumed in pleasure, wild abandonment coursing through her as she shamelessly pressed herself against his devouring mouth, slathering her hot arousal across his nose and chin. His olfactory system was on overdrive having her painting him, coating him and he never wanted to let the smell and taste of her leave him.

The way she flicked her hips against him, it was clear where she wanted him. And as much as he wanted to suck her clit hard into his mouth, make her scream and come, he didn't giver what she wanted.

“Please” She cried as he instead manipulated her in a particularly sinister way. He found her begging to be incredibly intoxicating and as it turned out, he very, very much liked the sound of please.

“Make me” He challenged, flattening his tongue and lapping at her slowly. He trailed away from her opening, moving high up her exquisite little body, pressing the tip of his tongue hard into her perineum, his bottom teeth scraping against the top of her lips as he worked his way up her backside until he was dragging his tongue against her puckered entrance. Testing her reaction, he flicked his tongue across it. Fast. Slow. Just the barest tip of his tongue delving inside. At the same time, his fingers gripped around her thighs massaging her tender skin, willing her to relax. He kneaded the powerful flesh in rhythm with his tongue listening to her shallow panting above him.

She didn't attempt to push him off or utter her safe-word, not even a yellow, so he continued. His dominant hand slipped into her folds, playing with her inner lips, his pinkie and ring finger sliding into her while his index played with her clit. Her breath hitched and she whined above him. Breathy, long and needy the sound raced along every fiber of muscle from neck to toes, fired every synapse his body still had left and made his cock impossibly hard. His sole mission in his unlife was to make her produce that sound for the rest of her life....and to make her come as many times as possible.

He worked her, manipulated her with tongue and lithe fingers, gauging her reactions and listening to the increased pitch of her moans, feeling the quivering of her muscles as she strained against him and hearing the change in her heartbeat, fast and fluttering, sanguine elixir pounding through her body.

“Spike” She said firmly, gripping his shoulders, digging new trenched to match the ones in his thighs. He groaned into her, sounding out his pleasure in her rough treatment of his skin.

When she was close, he ceased all attention to her clit and removed him fingers from her, only focusing on his tongue's ministrations in and around her second opening. She tensed above him and wailed when he stopped, trying to catch her breath she smashed herself down against his face. But he didn't give into her, as much as he wanted to. He took his time favoring this secret place of hers, somewhere he knew no one else had bothered to explore for her, too raunchy and dirty for good little pieces of white bread. How could they not when it could bring the girl so much more pleasure? He tended to her gently. Opened her up, dipped down to her cunt to lap up her flowing juices before returning north. 

“More” She demanded, sultry and needy. “More...more...more”

He gave her more, working his tongue deeper into her, past tight rings of muscle, knowing it full well that it wasn't what she was asking for but continued anyways. He was waiting for her to get so frustrated that she'd demand more from him. He'd been around the Slayer long enough to understand with perfect clarity how she thought and operated. He would have to push her to the proverbial edge to get her to lash out the way he wanted. Fortunately for him, Buffy wasn't a very patient girl either and it was only a matter of time before he got her right where he wanted her. He could hear the desperation in her voice when next she spoke, and it was mixed with the heady sound of her completely commanding tone that he'd been waiting for.

“Dammit Spike” She cursed “Play later, eat my pussy now”

He nearly came at the sound, his poor prick thrashing eagerly against nothing but open air and the words were pouring from his lips instantly.

“Yes goddess” He answered, finding it so easy to slip back into his submissive role as easy as it was to breathe.

She groaned above him as he eagerly slipped his tongue back into her cunt. Greedily sucking at her, running his deft tongue along her drenched seam. He flicked and swirled and nibbled at her, sucking harshly on her clit, drawing her into his mouth and gripping the undersides of her thighs tightly.

She moaned, a litany of incomprehensible curses falling from her lips. He replaced his tongue with three fingers and immediately started pumping into her with a punishing pace. He cruxed them as he entered her, hitting her special bundle of nerves over and over against in rapid succession. Within seconds he could feel she was right back on the edge, muscles tight, pulse skyrocketing, a cocktail of hormones wafting from her skin and she was ready to tumble around him. And then, out of nowhere, she shocked him.

“Bite me” She commanded.

A feral growl erupted from his chest as he let the demon loose, eager to obey her command and get another taste of her decadent blood. He waited just long enough to feel her internal muscles clench around his fingers, no doubt going to bruise him and listened for the beginning of her siren song, calling out to him and begging him to never to return to sea. Not that he ever wanted to return to shore ever again. He'd spend the rest of his life drifting in her ocean

And then she tensed above him, muscles locking, heart pounding as she cried out her release, the sound nearly driving him mad, and when she shuddered all around him he buried his fangs in deep. He tenderly pierced the milky flesh of her inner thigh and sunk into her femoral vein, eyes falling shut as he drank down her blood and the sound of her pleasure.

Her gasps and moans clawing their way from her throat as she rode her orgasm and the intensity of his bite had him bucking into the air, ready to come as an incredible mixture of her powerful blood and tangy cum trickled into his mouth. She was utterly intoxicating and there was the briefest moment where wondered if he was going to be able to stop.

He was about to pop when he heard her voice above him, low and dangerous.

“Don't you dare come vampire” Pant “Not allowed”

He felt the needy whine rip through his throat followed by the dark chuckle from her. He was desperate to come, seconds away from blowing his load and he couldn't grab himself to try and stave it off. He was going to be blue in the balls at this point but he didn't want to disappoint the goddess above him who was still riding out her orgasm. Now when he so badly wanted to prove how much he needed her, how wanting and willing he was to be under her control. Now that she was loving him, not using him.

So he used superior willpower, built and fortified from his time being under the control of Angelus and his sire and counted backwards in as many languages as he could think of. It was a fucking difficult task though, with her blood and cum in his mouth.

Her combined taste was as close to heave as he'd ever get. Sweet, fresh and salty, there was nothing on this earth that tasted as good as she did and he kept taking tiny mouthfuls, knowing he should stop soon before he started to damage her.

After every pull he felt her tremble more, the sensation of being gobbled down intensifying every sensation for her, causing her orgasms to be prolonged. After several minutes of taking leisurely sips from her, not able to pull away from her on his own anymore he finally felt her double tap him like he'd showed her earlier and he pulled away, first laving her with his tongue, cleaning and closing the tiny wounds and licking up the last bit of her spending.

Christ this woman was going to be the death of him. Whether she scorched and burned him with her mouth or cunt, staked him, beat him in a fight or ground his body into dust. But it was the only way he wanted to go. He felt wired. Powerful Slayer blood coursing through his undead veins, his poor aching cock perhaps more swollen than ever with no release in sight. He had taken a decent bit of blood from her

“Fuck Spike” She groaned “Let me move” Her authoritative growl had him moving away from her glorious rump immediately, falling back and giving him a brief moment of reprieve while she stood up on the bed for a moment, stretching out folded muscles. Her blonde hair draped over one of her shoulders, just barely touching her collar bone. She was sweaty, chest heaving, eyes a little bit glossed over from coming down hard and blood loss. He glanced up her towering body, raking it in, eyes lingering on her flushed tits, the curve of her waist and that lovely view he had from lying under her cunt.

“Your fucking glorious goddess” He whispered reverently. “Burnin me, consuming me like fire. No the sun. You’re the sun luv. Radiant and full of life. Bloody effulgent”

“Less talk...more touch” Her voice almost as desperate as his as she lowered herself back down to him, straddling his waist, cock rising proudly between her legs.

He murmured his agreement, shoving down the poncy poet and back to his task at hand.

_Can't believe I said that. Bloody effulgent._

He shoved the thought down and instead cupped her breasts, perfect little handfuls with pretty pink nipples adorning her like jewels.

“Perfect” He purred “Luscious little tits” He thumbed her nipples earning a gasp from her. “You'd look beautiful with pretty silver bars here too” Fingers working the buds into stiff peaks. “Be matching we would”

She favored him with a smile, her dainty fingers dropping to his chest and mimicking his own actions. He groaned as she twirled the cold metal and he desperately wanted to do the same for her. Wanted to see her toned, athletic body studded with gems in quite a few places and lavished in the finest jewels in her ears and at her throat. Garnets? Red like blood....no.....emeralds or diamonds. Something to emphasize her eyes. When he next he looked at her she wore a stern expression.

“Thought I told you no speaking” Her tone harsh and when he looked at her fiery verdant eyes, his insides burned with her molten gaze

 _Definitely emeralds_ He thought to himself

She twisted his piercings, pulling on them lightly and the heady rush of pleasure pain that accompanied traveled down his muscles, straight to his cock like lightning.

He lowered his gaze, his brilliant sun nymph too radiant for unworthy eyes.

“If you can't be quiet. I'll make you instead” She said and climbed off him. Already the warmth of her thoroughly human body was leaving him, his tepid flesh rapidly cooling. It was one of the many things he wished he could give to her. The warmth of a lover’s body curled up after copious amounts of sex. No, no warmth from him for his dear Buffy.

When she returned, she climbed atop his body and eyed him with an intensity that invoked the tiniest sliver of fear. Predatory and dominant. But he was too good at reading her and could see the flickers of love and nervousness that lingered there behind the mask, something he recognized in himself when he was in the same position.

“Bad boy” He heard her whisper, her eyes flicking to his, pensive, waiting to see if she'd crossed his line. He heard no ill intention in her voice, no loathing, no ire, just that nervous command, slightly playful. It was the sound of a woman trying to please a man. When he made no protest, her hand, clenched around something was at his mouth, slipping past his lips and forcing him to open.

He let out a satisfied groan when he realized it was those navy-blue knickers she'd been wearing, wadded up and completely drenched in her arousal the night before. And now they were shoved in his mouth. And really, the fabric was barely anything. He could talk perfectly around them if he wanted to. But that wasn't the point, that wasn't what she wanted, and he wanted to give her anything. The control was completely hers.

“Gonna ride you now. No talking. No noises. Just make me cum. Can you do that? Can you do that for me baby?” She cooed

And he was completely gobsmacked. Even if he had words to answer her, which he certainly did not, he wouldn't be able to utter them. Bloody fucking hell. He knew she would take to this, be downright perfect at it. Knew that buried deep within her was the commanding domina. A creature of power, of deadly conviction and fierce love. Rooted in strength she slid into a role that was perfect for her, even if she didn't know it for herself. But he knew her, knew he because the source of her strength, that tiny piece of demon mirrored his own. He knew what she was. It was only a matter of time before he was able to draw it out. He'd seen glimpses of it before when they were together over a year ago, but the seething hatred she had for herself had locked everything away. She was nowhere near ready for it back then and for that he was thankful. If she'd taken hold of it then? He couldn't help but think it would have been on the same level as Dru and he shuddered to think about her like that.

But she was ready for it now. And he was completely lost to her. Not just her commanding tone but bloody hell...did she just call him baby? He nearly groaned at that, already almost breaking scene and disobeying her. He was used to the pet names that Dru had called him when she was being sweet on him and remembered the swell of happiness he felt when she did so. Like he was being recognized as an actual lover and not just a plaything that took care of her. It was all he ever really wanted, that feeling of endearment, of love. And hearing something affectionate coming from Buffy's lips? That feeling burned so much brighter than anything Drusilla had made him feel. He was over the bloody moon and felt like a bloody ninny when he felt the hot pickling at the corner of his eyes. He snapped them shut, not wanting to betray the tide of emotions he was feeling right now.

He concentrated on listening to her, waiting for her instruction. Because as much as he wanted to be a bad boy to see what punishments she would dole out, he wanted to show her that he could be a good boy too, worthy of her love, praise and attention. So he opened his eyes when finally the threat of tear was gone, fire scorching his long dead veins, mirroring that inferno gaze she was giving him and striking the anvil while it was hot. The needy groan in the back of her throat only added to the moment.

“Fuck your pretty” She whispered and as her eyes raked down the length of him, he felt a white-hot surge of masculine pride as his hot little Slayer shamelessly ogle him. He'd never really cared or thought much of how he looked. He knew the fighting and blood kept him strong and muscled, but it wasn't like he could see himself in the mirror, vanity was never one of his sins. But with the way she was looking at him now...he was relieved that he'd put in effort to himself.

“I've never forgotten how pretty you are” She continued brushing fingertips against his skin. Surges of concentrated electricity welled up from those touched, crackled and sparked down his spine.

_Christ pet you’re the pretty one, not me. No...not pretty. What’s a word that describes what you truly are. Don't think there is one. I'd make one up, just for you if I could get enough blood in my brain to think. Goddess above your radiant, divine. The sun itself._

“Never” She continued “All that time that you were gone. I'd never forgotten you. How could I? With all that muscle and pale skin. You glow too you know...silver like the moon. I always saw you...even when I was....” And she trailed off tracing fingertips down the curve of his neck. He leaned into her touch, sensing the sadness in her eyes, the trembled of her voice. “You've always been the most attractive guy I've been with” She grabbed onto the bicep of his dominant arm. “These look bigger” And the sadness was chased away, and she was practically salivating over him and fuck it was a boost to his ego. “You been working out with Angel or something? Fighting no doubt”

_Fuck don't ask me that pet. Don't ask an expect me to answer. Thank fuck I can't speak right now. I can't tell you it’s because I've been drinking real blood. Human blood and that's the reason all my muscles are bigger. I don't want to see the look of hate on your face. Wanna see that bloody look on your face like you’re ready to jump my bones any moment. Don't want to hurt you. Can't lose this._

So he merely nodded, hoping that his nonverbal answer sated her curiosity. He considered himself lucky that she wasn't as good as reading him. Prayed that she didn't notice the guilty look in his eyes.

“It suits you” She admired “You look good. Healthy” and her hands dropped lower, down the dip of his sternum, through the hard lines of his abs and the v that lead to his trail of downy hair. She threaded her fingers through it, playing with it like the locks on his head. He found that he liked that just as much. But he liked her little hands on other parts of him much better.

“Missed this too” She purred while catching his gaze in a sultry stare as she palmed his pale length. He bit down on the lace in his mouth to prevent him from making any voice, which was a damned terrible idea because then he was tasting the remnants of her arousal of her panties.

 _Fuck you taste good._ Eyes rolling back.

“I missed how you tasted. How you felt. How good you feel inside me and how well we fit together. I'd forgotten how much better sex is when your uncut” She praised. Reaching out and plucking at the extra skin below his engorged head rubbing him sensually.

“Feels much better. Looks much better. You ruined me you know?” Her eyes dropping to his prick as she spoke “I couldn't get off much after you. This” She mumbled grasping him in a tight O underneath his head like he showed her last night. “Nothing felt right after you. Nothing big enough or thick enough or the right shape to get that.... well you know”

_Christ pet, your gonna bloody kill me. Praising my prick like this. A man can only handle so much. But I don't want you to stop. Don't want to ever hear you stop saying those words. They sound so pretty coming from that mouth of yours_

She squeezed around his cockhead tighter and he threw back his head, fangs descending, feeling his face shift and he bit down so hard on the fabric that he tasted his blood from puncturing his tongue on the other side.

_Bloody hell. Gonna get an earful for ruining her special knickers. Fuck but she knows exactly how to handle me. How the bleedin hell am I not supposed to make noise? Need to tell her how that tight body of hers has ruined me too, but I can't. Not now. Have to distract myself._

_“A chill runs up your spine, it crawls into your brain. The freezing touch of fear. Its driving me insane, although you try to fight it. Dragged from the silence where you hide. Till you scream. Scream. I can't wait to hear you. I can't wait to hear you, scream”_ He sung in his head calming himself down slightly and shifting back to his human face.

Smooth as silk her other hand reached down to cup his balls and she had to know what she was doing to him right? Couldn't she feel the way he was drawn up and tight in her palm, the way his thighs tensed and the way his teeth were grit together. Surely, she could see the blood that was lightly coating his lips.

_Oh, but that's right. The wankers she was with didn't give her signs. Didn't talk to her and certainly describe in detail how they felt as they were cumming for her, no doubt not bothering to return the favor. Of course, the girl's been ruined, you git's couldn't treat her proper._

He felt her pretty hand that was clamped around his cock loosen and he heard her start to whisper at him again, capturing his attention.

“You’re not allowed to cum okay? Not until I do. Can you do that for me?” He strained to keep in the whimper that was welling up in the back of his throat. She was so bloody perfect at this. He honestly wasn't sure if he was going to be able. He nodded but the movement was so restrained she must have thought it was fake because the look on her face was skeptical.

“Are you going to be good” She asked. Picking herself up and hovering over him, teasing his plum colored head, desperate and weeping through her soaked folds. He nodded again. This time more vigorously. She was almost as harsh and demanding as Dru, pushing him well up to his bloody limits and ready to toe over the line, but she lacked the harshness that his black sire possessed. For as tough as Buffy was, he knew that her intention was first and foremost her own pleasure but followed closely by his own. He did not see the need to cause pain in her eyes. She had seen firsthand what pushing him had done for him as she learned to deny him. And she was denying him in the best possible and yeah, it was fucking tough, but he had years of training with this and he was a but curious himself if he could outdo himself.

She bloody well tested every ounce of willpower he had though when she sank down on him without warning. Taking him into her scorching, tight little body with almost no problem...Almost.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_ He cursed to himself _How the bloody hell are you still this bloody tight after all the rodgering I'd done you. It’s like you've never been bloody touched. Christ. Never had it so good little kitten. Those other prats you had didn't know what they were giving up. Couldn't handle you, could they?_

He cracked an eye to see she was having difficulty with the last few inches of his generous length. His eyes glued to the spot where they were joined.

 _Seems you’re still having a bit of trouble there sweetheart._ He mused to himself. Watching her pick herself up and lower back down slowly, juices coating him as she enveloped him, cock disappearing into her slowly. He was fucking entranced. _Gonna give a bloke a complex_

She let out a breathy moan as she raised herself again, swiveling her hips as she came down back on him, slowly, desperately and watched the pleasure bloom across her face as she finally sunk so that he was completely inside her. _Bloody fucking brilliant_ He mumbled dazedly to himself

Slack jawed and mewling she flipped her hair so that it all hung over one shoulder and she pressed her hands to his solid chest, fingers idly grasping at his nipples, playing with his piercings and she started to ride him.

Her rhythm was languid and passionate, taking him all the way to the hilt as she came down on his raised hips before raising herself back up again. It reminded him of a sensual dance done between two lovers, the way she was moving against him and that brought him back to the first day he'd seen her. She'd just been a girl then, careless, free and innocent, still untouched and unscathed.

But this was no dance of a teenage girl at a club. Now when he watched her move atop his prick, hips rolling against his, perfect breasts thrust as she leaned back, she moved like a woman. At one point as she came down, she swiveled in a particularly delicious way, rubbing his buried cock against some deep bundle of nerves within her causing her the most obscene noise of pleasure come from her throat and her internal muscles to squeeze him for everything he was possibly worth.

_Oh gods baby. Do it again. Again. Please._ He silently pleaded as she continued her dance. He'd never seen her like this. Honest to god truly lost to the moment, intent on taking her pleasure but in a way that didn't just benefit her. And she did do it again, and again and again and he watched her face contort as she started to climb higher and higher.

But at some point during her dance she slowed and instead of her face being contorted in pleasure, her brow furrowed and twisted in frustration. The sweet friction of his cock gliding along her walls was reduced, and as nice of a reprieve as it was for him, allowing him to gain some control, he could easily see she was struggling, and he wasn't sure what had changed.

Panic set in. Something he wasn't used to feeling when it came to pleasing her. He'd never had any issues before after all. He was always able to keep her satisfied. She whined in frustration and he wished he could see what was going on in her head.

He reached out to swirl her clit with the pad of his thumb in slow building circles, cursing himself for not doing so earlier. She gasped at the contact, her pace picking back up for a moment, rocking against him fervently but she seemed to plateau again. It was possible that she was just worn out. They'd been at it for a good long while now and most of last night too. But he'd seen her go for much longer than this, much harder than this.

_Fuck this is killin me seeing you like this. Gonna have to break your orders luv. I'll gladly take any punishments later. Can't leave you like this._

He went to remove the panties from his mouth, but she was there first. He took the opportunity to kiss and lave her slender fingers as she slid past his lips and dove to remove the offending garment from his mouth. She yanked them away and tossed them to some undisclosed location in his flat. What came out of her mouth shocked him. He was sure that she was going to call it off, tell him she needed to stop, that it was too much.

“Need your voice” She moaned “Please baby...please”

His panic melted away immediately replaced by his trademark cocky grin.

“Yeah? Miss this did you?” He growled exaggerating his words. “Miss the Big Bad whispering dirty little things in your ears?”

“God yes” She moaned “More”

“Tell me what you want” His voice deep and dangerous “What do you need to cum luv? Hmm?”

“Nggh” She groaned “Clit. Please. Close. Wanna cum. Want you to cum with me”

“As my goddess commands” Purring deep in the back of his throat.

She resumed bouncing atop him with renewed fervor as he furiously stroked her. With his control firmly back in check and his ripe little goddess giving him no restrictions he raised his hips in time with her falling and palmed at her breasts, tweaking hard nipples.

“Perfect, beautiful girl” He praised. He knew she was at her limit. Could feel the exhaustion now seeping through her, how long had it been since they started? The sun was already started to rise again, he could feel it in the back of his mind. His body becoming weary with lack of sleep and the pull of daylight. He had to make this quick, bring her hard and fast until she didn't know what hit her.

“Lean back luv. Grab onto my ankles” He instructed, and she wearily did so putting her weight on shaky arms, her perfect tits raised high. “Hold on. This won’t take long” Curling his tongue behind his teeth. And it charmed him that she still gave him that trademark Buffy eye roll as he said so.

He wasted no more time and immediately set a brutal pace. Abandoning her perky breasts for the time being he grabbed her unbruised hip and grabbed it tightly, steadying her as he pistoned his hips up into her.

“Fuck” He barked throwing his head back as he slammed into her. “Your cunt's gonna be the death of me. Feel so good sweetling”

She mewled in reaction to his voice, weakly trying to match his pace

“Close” She whispered. “Please”

He leaned forward grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and pulled her into his lap, tightly against his chest squeezing her tight as he jack hammered into her, his lips finding the curve of her neck, sucking on his mark from earlier.

“Oh god Spike....please. Do it please” She whimpered “Please” She breathed her request.

Power flooded through him as the demon surged to the surface, brought out by her pleading words. He nuzzled her again, letting his demonic visage rub against her face, letting her know what she was dealing with.

“Need my fangs do you Slayer?” He growled

“God yes. Please Spike” She whined and she clenched around him. He couldn't wait anymore. Needed her cumming around him. As soon as the consenting syllable was out of her mouth he was on her, licking the marks and biting down as soon as she started to scream, sinking incisors into her carotid. Her heartbeat pounded in his head, pumping her blood straight to him. He'd already taken more than enough before so his mouthfuls were small but fuck were they everything. He was never going to get enough of her taste, bright and vibrant, like liquid sunshine, sweet and tangy like oranges.

He swallowed her down as she clamped around him, wailing, body wracked with uncontrollable shaking, drowning in his name.

He followed behind her, pulling away from her neck, mouth stained and fangs till bared he howled his release as she squeezed him of every jet of his cum that he released.

As she came down, she whimpered and slumped against him forehead resting against his shoulder.

“I've got you” He murmured, licking the wounds of her neck before wrapping her protectively against him shifting back to his human face. He fell back on the bed, pulling her down gently with him so she laid sprawled out with him. Her heart was still hammering under her skin, but she was starting to come down. He grabbed the pillows that had fallen off the bed during their furious lovemaking and slid one under her head, pulling up the blanket around her as well.

“Spike?” She asked sleepily.

“Yeah pet?” He rolled to his side, pulling her against him, cradling her back against his chest and kissing the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine and watched as gooseflesh appeared across her body.

“You'll really come with me? Back to Rome?”

“Silly girl. I'd follow you anywhere you went. Never gonna leave you again. I'd go to soddin France if you wanted me to and I bloody well hate that city”

She giggled and sighed in relief.

“Good. Let’s leave tomorrow. I want to get back and tell Dawnie the good news”

He beamed against her skin.

“Course luv. Can't bloody wait”

“Love you” She murmured snuggling against him.

Christ and this was what he always wanted. He was so deliriously happy brushing lips against any skin he could find, threading fingers through her hair.

“Love you too Buffy. Get some rest sweetheart. I imagine we've got a bit to do tomorrow night, gonna have to....” And he trailed off a knowing smirk gracing his face as he felt her fall into a deep sleep. A satisfied smile gracing her face. He laid a few more sweet kisses against her skin and pulled her tighter against him, curling around her purring against her in pure post coital bliss. For a few moments, he was thinking about everything that had happened in the past 48 hours, the unbridled joy he'd been feeling, something he didn't think he was every going to get used to. He thought about how in another 24 hours he'd be back on the right side of the pond and living with the two people he wanted to be around more than anything as a lover, not a prisoner and the future that may or may not lie ahead for them. He thought about all of this and the beautiful sleeping woman beside him, his Slayer, his lover. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again everyone for tuning in. I'll try and have another installment asap. I've already got one rumbling around in my head. Think I'm going to switch it up a little bit. 
> 
> I own none of the characters or anything that to do with Joss's amazing creation. I also own none of the bands mentioned or any of their works. 
> 
> Excepts from Episodes: Once More with Feeling, What's My Line Part One, Touched, Fool for Love 
> 
> Lyrics from:  
> For Your Entertainment - Adam Lambert  
> Misfits - Scream


	3. Magic Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU/All human. Its Buffy's 21st birthday and after a strange dream, all of her girlfriends take her out for a special birthday surprise, a night out at the local strip joint Mystery to get an eye and lapful after Buffy's ex's cheated on her. But Buffy, still raw from being cheated on isn't too thrilled with going or the man they've picked out for her. But her whole night changes when she lays eyes on him. On her Magic Man. (Aka the one where Spike is a stripper)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do something bit different here. I'm kind of back and forth on human fics (just cause I love vamps so much and love Spike as a vamp) but I found it really satisfying to write this fic. I apologize for taking so long, my Masters program has started to rev up in terms of work and its starting to beat me down a little bit. But I really enjoy writing so I haven't given up!  
> I took a few creative liberties here with Spike a little bit (since I have the option w/ him being human) so bear with me. They may not be of popular opinion.  
> I want to thank those who have commented so far, it really means a lot to me.  
> Without further ado.

_Cold, late night so long ago  
When I was not so strong you know  
A pretty man came to me  
I never seen eyes so blue  
You know, I could not run away it seemed  
We'd seen each other in a dream  
Seemed like he knew me, he looked right through me, yeah_

Magic Man – Heart

~

Her dreams were usually pretty straight forward. Running from * insert monster type here *, spending a day in a magical castle or high-class hotel where prince charming or Gavin Rossdale doted upon her hand and foot and brought her all the finest presents. She even had the occasional wet dream. In those the.... person? Because really it was just a featureless thing that looked like a guy getting her off was always the same. Even in her dreams she wasn't very creative or sexually liberal it seemed. The guy was always the same too, tall dark and handsome with a bulky muscular build, but no face. It was safe to say she had a type. Riley, her boyfriend of the past two years, well, make that ex-boyfriend had been built like that. A military guy with the sports, the bro's, the secret work stuff and the secret girlfriend stuff. You know? That kind of thing. So, it definitely wasn't Riley in her dreams, but it was always something that reminded her of him. She guessed that even though the guy had cheated on her, her body still needed him.

She wasn't the most experienced girl. She'd had sex with three guys now. They were fine, everything worked the way it was supposed to. It all felt good, not that she had anything to compare it to of course but in the grand scheme of the Buffy grading scale it was a solid B+ when it came to things she liked to do. But when she woke up from her dream that night, it wasn't one of the designated archetypes she'd categorized all the other dreams into. It was something completely different, kind of off the wall, but not entirely unpleasant. Her brain was just thrown for a loop.

Case in point, she dreamed of mountains. Well, not of the mountains themselves, but she was definitely in the middle of a mountain range and despite the fact that she knew she was in a dream she was freezing. The thick fluffy snow came up to her calves and she wondered why her subconscious had thrown her into a tundra landscape and put her into her new forest green off the shoulder top and skintight black jeans. Guess this was just a different kind of death dream, she'd never dreamed of freezing to death. She wondered if it would be painful.

_Hello!!_ She called out in her dream, but she was met only the sound of the wind whipping around her.

_Of course, there's no one out here Buffy. You’re out here in the middle of nowhere and you’re going to freeze to death and you all alone._

She wandered the tundra; her legs were already numb from the cold and she was sure she had frostbite on her toes. She looked around, trying to find something, anything. A cave maybe that she could settle into and die maybe not so quickly.

And then suddenly, perched on a cropping of dark black rocks buried in the snow was a cat. A beautiful snow leopard. She almost missed it because it had blended in so well with the bleak surroundings, camouflaged in with the blacks, silvers and white of the landscape around it. As she stared it down, it made no move to either leave or come towards her and she found herself inexplicably drawn to it.

Those eyes. The purest of blue, too blue to be a real color. They were deep sapphire, bright and intense as she stared into them. She had never seen eyes so blue. She moved towards it, entranced by its beauty. It seemed to be waiting for her, tail twitching madly as she drew nearer to it. Suddenly it didn't even seem cold anymore. The prickling of her frost-bitten skin was forgotten in favor of reaching such an ethereal creature. When she made it to the cat, she grasped a hold of its fur, thick and warm and she was filled with a feeling of whole-body warmth. A sleepy comfort that often occupied the time right after...well...right after she came. That floating feeling of being but not being. Warm and loose and happy. Wait....what he actual fuck?

She let go of the cat and stared into its piercing eyes. It was like it knew, licking its lips, showing off long ivory fangs, a gaze so penetrating she felt it down to her core. It invoked things she hadn't felt before. A deeper lust she wasn't aware she was capable of feeling. She'd certainly never felt it before. It was utterly intoxicating, and she wondered if it could always be like this. The ghost like cat turned to leave and loped further up the mountain. She was lost without it, missed the warmth and the euphoria that came with it. Several times the cat slow its pace or stopped completely, turning around and waiting for her to catch up before it continued its ascent. She realized that it wanted her to follow it.

The lithe creature trotted easily through the heavy snow, padding over hidden rocks and making a safe path for her as they made their way further from the valley, they'd started in. Its lean muscles flexing under that gorgeous flowing silver spotted coat. When she caught up to it again it led her into a cave in the side of the mountain. There was no fire but when she saw the cat curl up on the stone floor, those eyes boring into her, she sunk to the ground and pressed herself into the space it made for her and tangled her fingers in its rough coat. Pleasure coursed through her body, limbs tingling as she whimpered from the full body orgasm that rocked through her.

She shot awake, blinking slowly as her fuzzy head came back to reality. The first thing she noticed was that she was warm, wrapped in a Buffy burrito in her favorite fluffy comforter and that she was in her room and not in the middle of a mountain range. The second thing she noticed that she was uncomfortably soaked underneath said comforter. She pulled back the sheets and gaped, letting out an audible squeak as she took in the amount of wetness that coated her sheets.

No fucking way. Did she really just have the most intense orgasm of her life, making a huge mess of her sheets and because of a cat?! What in the hell was going on with her? She stared at it for a couple more minutes, baffled by the very strange turn of events here when she heard the knock at her door.

Panicked, she flipped her sheets back, not wanting to explain the bed or the fact that her pajamas were completely drenched. Because there was no way whoever it was knocking at her door wasn't going to come in...3...2...1.

“Buffy” The feminine voice called from behind the door before she saw it being pushed open.

 _Bingo_ She thought to herself.

“I'm up Willow” She mumbled sleepily, throwing her arms to stretch out her muscles. How long had she been asleep? She glanced outside and saw it was dark. Well...shit. She must have slept all day.

The quirky red head padded through the door; her entire face taken up by her beam of a smile.

“Happy Birthday Buffy!” She squealed, making her way to the bed within seconds and throwing her arms around her in a Willow-y hug.

“Thanks Will” She replied happily, leaning into the small frame of her friend.

“The big two-one! How do you feel?” She asked eyes alight

_Well let’s see...I just found out my boyfriend of two years cheated on me. I had an erotic dream where I came harder than I ever have in my life and all from touching a cat with stunning blue eyes and now I'm all wet and sitting in equally wet sheets and embarrassed that you’re going to know and panicked because what if you find out?_

“Peachy” She replied sarcastically, not realizing how much of a bitch it made her sound.

“Well that doesn't sound very birthday like to me” She pouted, clearly, she had hurt her feelings somehow by not being over the moon because it was her birthday.

_Great and now she's upset. Time for damage control_

“Sorry Will. I just got up and I was in the middle of a very confusing dream”

The red head eyed her suspiciously but then rolled her eyes playfully.

“Well of course silly. That's what you get for eating chocolate ice cream right before bed”

“Yeah...that's gotta be it”

_It’s totally not the overwhelming feel of abandonment and my dreams overcompensating for the lack of real-life orgasms...I just wish I knew what the goddamn cat was all about._

“Well...ice cream aside. It’s kinda late already. You really slept the day away. It’s going on 7:30. We have to start getting ready you know? You do remember where were going tonight right!?”

_Boy do I...._ She thought sarcastically. It was currently closing in on 7:30pm on January 19th, which happened to make it they day of her 21st birthday. Her friends were all excited and ready to go as the baby of their group finally hit legal drinking age and they had only been talking about taking her out here only since forever ago. There had been much of a debate, none of which included her, about where they should go for her birthday and everyone finally decided going to Mystery.

And yes, it was exactly what it sounded like. Her friends, Willow, Tara and Anya all decided that the best place for her 21st birthday was at the local strip club. They all claimed the perfect way to get over her stupid hulk of a cheating ex was ogling hot guys in cheesy costumes and minimal clothing and sticking cash into their G strings. Her first reaction had been no. Hell fucking no. As in seriously guys? What the hell? Why would you think I'd want to go there? Then they all got this collective knowing look on their faces.

 _You'll see_. Was there only answer.

“I'm up and getting ready” She said in the most unconvincing voice that ever came from her mouth. “Gonna take a shower first”

“Good idea” Will agreed. “You’re looking a little..well...sweaty”

_Gee thanks Will for that compliment. I had no idea. Wow._ She really needed to stop snapping at the poor girl. Even in her thoughts she was being a passive aggressive bitch. It wasn't her fault that Riley had cheated in her with some vampire wannabe and there was this thing with the cat.

“Yeah I was...climbing a mountain...in my dream”

“Oh wow, that must have been cool. My dreams are never that interesting”

“It was...something else” Buffy mumbled, her thoughts drifting to the leopard. Beautiful, sleek and deadly and how she felt so connected to it. Ripples if longing were already stirring within her.

“Well...Tara and I are downstairs, and I think Anya is on her way over. You get in the shower and finish getting ready. Did you want to stop and get something to eat before we get there or make something here? We're gonna need some kind of food in our stomachs before we drown ourselves in alcohol” She said with a giggle.

“Uh...I'll just eat something here. Sandwich or something”

Willow nodded. “We'll fix something for you. Now get ready!” She commanded and retreated from her room, closing the door behind her.

She sighed in relief once the door was closed, feeling like she was hiding some great secret. It was silly really. She flung back the covers and stared at the damp spot. It was more embarrassing then anything. It’s not like she had done anything wrong. Just a natural reaction when you had a dream that involved you getting off by touching a cat. She wondered if it was a metaphor for something, but for the life of her couldn't figure how a cat with blue eyes in the mountains meant anything.

_Oh god._ She thought in a panic, stripping out of her sleepwear and flinging it into the hamper. _Does this make me some kind of weirdo? Am I some kind of...animal...lover?_

The thought made her cringe. She was already different enough. She was a lot stronger than her friends for her size and she sometimes had these weird dreams that would come true the next day and now she was...in love with animals? This was all very confusing. She thought long and hard about the dream when she started the shower, testing the warmth of the spray.

In the dream she didn't try and physically have sex with the cat. That thought alone gave her the heebie jeebies, which was followed with a feeling of comfort. So maybe she didn't want to have sex with them. But what was this really? The feelings of completeness and the pleasure that followed them, they had only come about when she touched its fur and she felt safe when it was curled around her.

 _Okay so...maybe not a total weirdo. Just some classic insecurity issues, right?_ _Totally normal_

With the new revelation hammered out, she focused on her shower. Lathering her hair with her orange and mint shampoo and conditioner and wondering idly now that she and Riley were so done with if she should cut her hair. He'd always liked it longer, probably because he was the epitome of basic white homophobic guy. He wanted his girlfriend to wear long pretty dresses and skirts and have long flowing hair to go with, it was all very feminine. God forbid she wore anything remotely masculine. They never did anything outside the norm when it came to sex either.

He was pretty clear in not wanting anything that could be construed as kinky. She was pretty sure he didn't want to acknowledge that there were more than three position either and he'd only let her go down on her a handful of times, saying a lady shouldn't be on her knees (although there was only one time she was in this position)

Part of her admired the chivalry of it, he was the scum of the earth, but he had up until this point treated her like a princess. But part of her always begged the question, what else was out there? As she was scrubbing herself down with her favorite vanilla body wash she found herself thinking of that cat again. Not necessarily the leopard itself but its eyes. Those startling blue eyes that seemed almost human in nature in their color and expressiveness. She found herself with her hand between her thighs, parting hairless lips and pressing into her clit with quick fingers. She was shocked at how turned on she was already. Suffice to say it was never like this before and she slumped against the shower wall for support. It only took a few moments, loofah forgotten as she furiously worked herself until she was already rushing over the edge, those blue eyes ingrained into her as she gasped lightly, pussy clenching around nothing but air but wanting more. Jeez...how long had it been since she'd done that?

She washed herself again, almost embarrassed by the wetness that pooled there between her legs in just that short amount of time. She turned off the shower, wrapping her hair and body up in fluffy pink towels. She sat at her vanity and started applying her make up. Maybe her friends were right. Maybe this was exactly the thing she needed. It’s not like it was a commitment of any kind. They were just going to see some strippers. Some luscious male bodies to eye fuck and help her get her mind off Riley for good. There was nothing shameful in a bit of ogling, especially when there was no pressure afterwards.

Just drink, enjoy the show and maybe work up the courage to slip a few one's in some hot guy who was dressed like a cop or fireman's thong.

She was almost done with her makeup, not bothering to put much on, just enough to bring out her eyes and the shape of her face when she heard the front door opening. It was followed by the tell tale squeaking of muffle female voices, one low male voice and the high itch squeal of her sister.

 _Xander_ She thought thankfully. He had agreed to watch Dawn for the night, much to Anya's dismay who had really insisted upon her fiancée coming with her to an all-male strip club. It was pretty clear he'd rather be here though, and Dawn was of course excited that he would be staying over sans Anya. She'd always had a crush on him.

After a few moments she heard the clack of heels coming up the steps and suddenly the door flew open. “Anya” Buffy greeted without even bothering to look away from her vanity mirror. She was the only one who wouldn't knock. She was a strange girl, in the way that she was very much literal with her words and actions. But she was straightforward and honest. She could always count on her not to lie to her, something she needed now more than ever.

“Hello Buffy. You don't look very ready to go. We're on a schedule here” She spoke impatiently

“I know An. I'm almost done with my makeup”

“But then you have to choose your outfit. Knowing you that will take forever. Do you want me to pick something out for you? I will make sure its optimized to be the sexiest thing you own” She said beaming. -

“I really appreciate it An, but I got it. I...I already know what I'm wearing” The other girl's face fell a bit.

“I doubt it will be as sexy as possible. But it’s your choice. I'll be downstairs. Someone has to be downstairs to make sure your sister doesn't try and sleep with Xander” She spoke and flounced out of the door and closing it behind her

“Such a weird girl” She muttered to herself. She just finished her make up when she realized that during the course of her conversation with Anya, she had made her split-second decision on what she was wearing. In her dream, she had been wearing her new top and tight black jeans. For some reason...the outfit seemed perfect. The top was sexy enough, with the shoulders being out and it settling just over the top of her basically nonexistent breasts, she hadn't been very lucky in that department.

So she brushed on some gold eye shadow, just enough to accent her emerald green eyes, taking her time and of course the door to her room flew open. Thank god she wasn't parading around naked in here. Although it might get people to stop bursting through her door. Of course, knowing her luck the next person to burst through the door would be Xander who one, used to have a crush on her so major awkwardness there and two, might cause her to get killed by Anya.

“Buffy!” Came the high pitch squeal from her younger sister. As annoying as it was, it was oddly comforting that it was her sister.

“Hey Dawnie”

“What'cha up to? Your makeup looks good”

_Vague conversation starter and a compliment Dawn? Really? Like I haven't pulled this over on Mom like a thousand and one rimes_

“What do you want Dawnie?”

The acting on the taken aback look, that needed a little bit of work “I..I don't want anything. Why would you think I wanted something?” Her voice perhaps going up two whole octaves

“Because I was 15 once too” She said dryly, finishing with her eye shadow and moving onto a light coating of a neutral lipstick.

The girl gave a sheepish grin.

“I just wanted to ask if I could borrow your perfume” She said nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders

“I dunno Dawn. Does it have anything to do with Xander being here while his **_fiancé_** is out with me tonight?” She asked knowingly. She wasn't blind to her sisters crush on her lifelong friend.

“It has nothing to do with that! I just like the smell”

Buffy just turned to her and gave her another long hard stare, knowing that eventually she would back off.

They stared each other down for a good long while before Dawn crossed her arms over her chest

“God you suck!” She proclaimed and walked brusquely out of her room, slamming the door behind her. “Wouldn't be a normal day without a Dawnie door slam” She mumbled to herself

She could vaguely hear them merrily chatting away downstairs, talking excitedly about the club. None of them had been there yet, although Anya had been nonstop talking about wanting to go since Buffy turned 20 and she'd found out you had to be at least 21 to even go in. She could only conclude that they thought it was the best possible way for them to all legally drink together and to ogle the practically naked men as well. She didn't understand why a normal dinner out at one of the local restaurants wouldn't suffice. She would have much rather preferred that. Even better, she would have preferred them to stay in, order a pizza and drink legally there in the comfort of home and her yummy sushi pajamas. Of course, they had chosen her birthday for this little test project of theirs. She wasn't going to complain...much.

She was told that because it was her birthday, and her twenty first at that, she would not have to pay for any of her own drinks, a big bonus because with her mom not here she didn't have a lot of extra money to go around spending. Plus she didn't have to worry about driving home either. And yeah, she could go and shamelessly ogle some almost naked guys There was bound to be at least one that she found attracted to. She threw on her top, it hugged her little frame perfectly, sitting just above the tops of her almost nonexistent tits but emphasizing them in a non slutty way.

She decided on a pair of skintight black jeans and dark green flats to go with it. To finish the outfit of she plucked a gold necklace that hung from the corner of her mom’s picture. She missed her mother more than anything in the whole world. She'd be gone for just over a year now and she was still devastated. Her and Dawn were both still dealing with their grief and some days were better than others. The necklace was a simple gold chain with a heart shaped locket complete with a family photo sans dad safety shut inside. It gave her so much strength to wear it, having her mom so close. It also happened to accent her earth toned outfit well.

Now she was done. She grabbed her bag, that was also functioning as a purse and headed to the door. She doubled back when she saw the bottle of perfume sitting at the edge of the table and spritz herself a few times. Nothing wrong with throwing on a little Victoria's Secret. It’s not like she was going to the club to have sex with any of these guys, but she could at least smell nice right?

“I'm coming!” She shouted down to them as she closed her bedroom door

Her friends were at the bottom of the stairs.

“You took forever. We need to hurry up now” Anya said with a frown

She made her way down the stairs and after several minutes of saying goodbye to Dawn and Xander the group of girls climbed into Joyce's Jeep, passed down to Buffy and currently being driven by the most responsible of the group, Tara. Buffy sat up front after being treated to a freebie shotgun and stared out the window as they rolled through town. Willow and Anya were chatting up in the back and she then felt awkward for sitting up front, at least then Willow and Tara could be all coupley in the front together.

“Hey how come you and Tara are going?” She asked looking from Tara to Willow.

“Well...just because we’re not interested in men doesn't mean were not interested in alcohol....and it’s your birthday. We’re not going to miss your birthday. And besides Buffy you'll recall that I used to like men. I dated a couple of them. Remember Oz?”

“How could I forget?” But didn't fail to notice the look of hesitation on Tara's face.

“Besides” Willow continued “I've heard that some of these guys are major hotties”

“I've also heard this” Anya chimed in throwing up her hand. “There's supposedly a new guy here too”

“And I j..just want t..to be with you g..guys” Tara chimed in

Okay so she was slightly irritated at all of them for wanting this to be the place where she spent her twenty first birthday...but she it’s not like she could stay mad at them long, they were still her friends. Maybe she would even have a good time.

It didn't take them long to arrive, seeing as Sunnydale wasn't that large of town. She was surprised to find that the building didn't even look like a strip club. It was nestled in between two other buildings. She was expecting to be ridiculously obvious in an over the top kind of way with like a giant penis on the front and glitter streaming from the ceiling. The outside of the building had the name Mystery in thick purple neon lights indicating that yes, this was indeed the male strip club, but that was it.

When they entered the building, she was pleasantly surprised. It was clean, like really clean. She was expecting it to be all cigarette smoke and trash on the floor, but honestly it looked like some well to do theater. There were two large stages, complete with catwalks and poles. In the back of the club there were a few rooms that were protected by thick purple curtains and a hallway that lead deeper into the club.

The two stages were currently occupied with very handsome men, one whose clothes were off minus his shiny red booty shorts. The other was in the process of stripping off his uniform. Well...there were her cop and fireman...Phooey.

“They're very pretty” Anya's voice drifted into her ear and for a moment she forgot that she was here with other people.

“I guess” She mumbled. They were pretty cute yeah, but not completely eye catching now that she looked at them after the shock value of seeing nearly naked men on a stage for the first time had worn off. Under the fluorescent stage lights, she could see all the little flaws and the makeup they were wearing to cover them up.

“Don't worry” She heard her friends voice again, snapping her from her current thoughts. “We have something much better for you planned” She stated matter o factly.

Anya had come dressed in a tight red halter top and short black skirt. Her recently dyed blonde hair had been curled into thick waves that hung around her shoulders. It was something that she figured she would wear to a place like this, provocative and sexy, lots of guys like the red and black look. Not that Anya looked bad of course, it was hard for any of her friends to look bad. Even Willow, whose fashion statements were all over the place in terms of style and even decade made anything look good. But somehow her outfit felt…perfect…it was sexy without being slutty and if I guy couldn't appreciate that well then screw em.

“Planned?” She finally questioned, trying to get her head out of the clouds. She hadn't even had a drink yet.

Willow and Tara approached, broad grins across the faces of Anya and the quirky redhead who shoved a shot glass into her hand.

“Oh yes. Why do you think we were so insistent on coming here?” Anya continued, fiddling with her own shot glass, empty already. She must have taken it when she was staring off into space like a dork.

 _Well I thought it was because you wanted to be here Anya_ She thought bitterly. _I don't think I've ever made a comment about wanting to come to a place like this. I mean poor Xan, knowing An she probably ranted on and on about this place and all the hot and sweaty guys. No wonder the poor guy has issues._

When she didn't answer her with actual words, cause once again she was all in her head, Anya continued.

“There's a certain guy here we wanted you to see. He's going to be on stage soon and after that. Well. We've already scheduled you in for a special birthday lap dance!” She exclaimed rapidly clapping her hands together beaming.

She threw back her head and took the shot. Yuck. Whiskey.

“E..excuse me? A lap dance with a guy I don't know? I haven't even seen him yet! Why on earth would you do that?”

Clearly Anya didn't get the face that she was so upset about it because she just kept rambling on. She noticed too that Willow didn't seem to get the message, although she caught the guilty look on Tara's face. Good to know that someone at least didn't agree with this madness.

“Well because he's normally impossible to get! His schedule is always booked. He's one of their main attractions”

“Attractions! An...this a guy. A human guy. A human guy with feelings and a name and...” She started ranting

“Yeah, his name is Angel”

She nearly dropped the empty shot glass. She wished she had another.

“...Angel...His stage name is Angel?” She scoffed rolling his eyes “What kind of name is that anyways?”

“His name is Angel yes and he's very attractive. You'll see why he's called that. He should be on any minute. That's why we were in a rush. We wanted you to see him dance before you get your time alone with him”

Okay...on the one hand...her friends had gone out of their way to book a private dance with this...Angel guy for her even though it was super difficult because of how in demand he was. They must have been waiting for months and they were lucky enough to manage and get it on her birthday? They really were trying to make things better for her. On the other hand, her friends booked this super rare, probably expensive experience for her with a guy she hadn't even seen yet. She had no doubt that he was probably attractive but wasn't the type of girl to just throw herself at a guy just because he was hot. She still wasn't entirely happy about being here of all places on her birthday and that they'd gone ahead and booked this lap dance (which of course hasn't had one of those before so she was nervous about that) and with some guy she's never met...but she couldn't how much her friends care about her to do all this for her.

“Alright...but no more surprises okay? I just want to have a good time with all of you on my birthday. So whose gonna get me another shot while I settle in and watch this guy strip all of his clothes off?”

Anya beamed, flitting off to the bar to purchase another round of drinks while Tara and Willow walked with her to find seats.

They weren't able to get seats right in the front, which of course Anya blamed Buffy for because she had taken so long at the house. She felt vaguely guilty for that but the next the girls all clinked their shot glasses together she felt that feeling slip away a little bit more. Once they had seats, Anya ran off to the bar again and returned with another two shots each for the girls.

“H..happy B..birthday...B..buffy” Tara chimed in, leading the toast this time. She would definitely drink to Tara.

“Whoa...that was some strong liquor” And before she could put the first glass down, Anya was shoving the other one in her hand. She usually hated whatever this was...whiskey? Bourbon? But after the first couple shots it went down really smooth.

Tara had stopped after this one, as she was the designated driver for the way home and Willow, who'd only had four was a little past tipsy at this point. She never could hold her liquor very well. She was starting to feel it too, but she blamed that on the fact that she hadn't winded up eating. Anya had flagged down a waiter, barely dressed in a uniform at all with his toned ass hanging out of the tiny apron he was wearing and ordered two more shots for everyone but Tara.

“This is pretty great” Buffy found herself saying looking between the two stages. The other had a guy on it now, propping himself up with a fake gun and dressed in army greens. That was kind hot too.

When the shots came around the girls were about to throw them back when the announcers came over the speaker system.

“Ladies and Gentlemen....today we have a special act for you!” Which was followed by a chorus of cheers and fan girly screams. She even heard a couple low calls of a few men.

Anya leaned over to her then, breath reeking of the whiskey bottle they'd slowly been draining.

“Here he is Buffy” She slurred

Willow appeared over her other shoulder

“Happy Birthday” Her meek little voice piped up

“Happy Birthday” She heard Tara say as well

“Here he is, come down from heaven to sweep you off your feet and catch you in his strong arms”

Hidden by a silhouette and a little bit of fake fog she recognized why her friends were insistent on having her see this guy. She couldn't see his face but could tell from his outline that he looked Ike her type. Tall, built and muscular he stood as still as a statue frame by...something?

“To take you back to heaven with him. Give it up for the one and only Angel!” The announcer finished, followed by another round of screaming from the crowd around them.

The lights fully came on then and bathed in the new lights was Mr. tall, dark and...forehead? He was wearing a white three-piece suit, complete with sparkly gold bow tie and was framed by two large white angel wings. He was definitely tall, check. Dark skinned, check and pretty damn handsome, if one could get past that overly large forehead. The white of his outfit accented his tanned skin, making him look more ethereal. Then his music started, Nice and Slow by Usher. Good song choice.

She glanced over to her friends who were excitedly looking back at her, waiting for a response.

“Well?” Anya asked leaning over

“He's pretty cute An, I'll give you that” She replied fiddling with her empty glass.

Willow handed her the last full glass

“Don't forget you have a one on one with him after his routine is over” Willow chimed in, her voice seriously slurring now. “Already paid for and everything”

“It was expensive” Anya chimed in

Well that was awkward and all pressure-y. She was already nervous about this whole special lap dance in the back room with a guy she didn't know and was hoping she could maybe skip out. She was getting enough of a show right here anyways, even if she had to move around in her chair and half stand sometimes to see him.

Angel made his way down the catwalk with this dark broody look in his dark chocolate colored eyes and in contradiction to the slow, sexy beat of the classic R&B love song he was throwing his hips around and provocatively thrusting out towards the audience.

It got her to thinking. This was usually the kind of man she was interested in physically but there was something different here. Something...wrong? Was there something wrong with her? She was in a strip club to enjoy no attachments but the only thing that it was making her feel was...no she didn't want to think like that tonight.

She took a hazy look at the stage, head buzzing with alcohol as she had just downed her last shot thinking to herself that she should probably stop now. She looked at her friends who were transfixed on the man before them, even the two lesbians. She looked over to the other stage and found it to be empty again, guess they were getting ready for the next act.

Her thoughts drifted away, towards her dream. Was it super weird that she kept thinking back to that dream? That she kept getting lost in the feeling of feeling safe and taken care of and the strange intense pleasure that had come with it? She knew she couldn't bring it up to her friends, they would be the judgiest of the judge.

When she looked up at the stage again, his tear away white suit had come off, leaving him in a shiny white G string with gold accents and fluffy white feathers. It definitely didn't do much to hide what was underneath, she could clearly see the full outline of what she assumed was a semi hard cock curved underneath the thin white fabric. She briefly wondered where he got the name Angel and why anyone would willingly dress in a fluffy white thing like that when they could be something tougher. Was this his choice? Not that she really had anything against it. It was different and he did look pretty yummy. She eyed him up, dragging her gaze across his broad chest and shoulders. He had plenty of muscles to spare. Bulging pecs, biceps, triceps, deltoids, calves, glutes and what was that...and eight pack? But as much as she wanted to enjoy it more....

Someone was rapping on her shoulder and she got a confused look from the rest of her group. Shit she must have zoned out again. She noticed that while Willow and Tara looked concerned, Anya actually had this look of anger across her face, a small inferno raging in her eyes.

“He's like right there Buffy! Right in front of you! You should place some of the ones that I kindly gave you for the occasion in his underwear now He's been looking at you”

Of course, it was about the money. It was all about money with Anya. Every other sentence that came out of that girls mouth that didn't have to do with Xander and their various sexcapades was about how awesome money was. As she looked up to the stage, she found that Angel was looking in this general direction with his soft brown eyes razing the crowd before him. He danced in front of them, turning around and giving this side of the stage a view of his tight bare ass, throwing his head over his shoulder and shaking himself out.

She was nearly deafened by the screaming of the girls around her, including the ones sitting next to her. But despite Anya's statement that he was looking right at her....she felt like she was just one with the crowd. There was no way that this guy was just looking at her. She didn't feel the connection when she looked into his eyes. All she got was a man who was trying to please a crowd of screaming females, she just happened to be a part of it.

Honestly? She found it to be too overwhelming. Found **_him_ **to be too overwhelming. He had a pretty face and a nice body, she wasn't going to deny that, but with the way he threw himself all over the stage, thrusting so recklessly...it kinda killed the sexy vibe for her. It seemed fake and really felt like it was an act, not something that he enjoyed doing. Or maybe he did, and he fucked the way that he danced which was an unpleasant thought in and of itself because it reminded her of well...of Riley. She wasn't looking forward to this dance with him. She eyed that back hallway with disdain. Maybe she could still back out. She'd go up to the nice people at the desk and kindly state that her friends made a mistake here and ask for their money back.

“Hey birthday girl!” Willow leaned in, slurring her words hard now. Tara, supporting her, gave a sheepish grin. “Look...look!” She babbled gesturing up towards the stage.

She turned her gaze back up to Angel who was now undulating in front of her, making sure that the audience (including her) saw the full erection that he was supporting now. She smiled politely, not able to meet his gaze and she just wished that he would go away now. Turn and face some other group of girls. And he did, an almost hurt look on his face as he turned away, moving to his pole where he started dancing around it.

Suddenly she could breathe again. The air wasn't so thick with awkwardness or tension. But of course, that was broken when she heard the snappy voice of a very drunk Anya.

“What the hell was that Buffy!” and despite her intoxication, her words still came out as perfect and harsh as usual. “He was so into you!” She stood up, clutching an empty drink. “You totally spaced out!”

“Don't you like him Buffy?” Willows tiny voice asked looking like she was about to cry. “He's your birthday present from all of us. A little bit of muscly goodness to make Riley go all...poof” And she got this dreamy look on her face.

“Guys I...” Buffy started fiddling with her nails. But she was cut off. Angel continued to dance but the stage announcer came over the intercom again.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen here he comes the other half of our special act tonight! If Angel is heavenly and sweet, then our newest boy is sin itself! Give it up for Spike everyone!”

_Sin hun?_ She thought to herself, her attention turning away from her friends as she turned to look at the other stage. When the lights came up, she was so awestruck that she couldn't look away. She had never really gotten into the bad boy look, with all the black leather, spikes, chains and dangerous personalities. Her guys had always been sweet and sporty, the jock type. It had been like that ever since high school. But she couldn't look away. His outfit consisted of a long, expensive looking leather duster, tight black tee shirt, equally tight black jeans and a pair of heavy black shoes that looked like they could kick some serious shit. His hair was platinum blonde and spiked up wildly. She could see from where she was the light reflecting off several chunky silver rings and a tight silver collar around his neck. It looked like he had some facial piercings too on his eyebrow. She stood from her seat and like she was hypnotized, called to him by some unknown force, she moved towards his stage. Leaving her friends, who were already calling her back as distant voices behind her.

His music started, a slow sexy beat that felt like it was echoing in time with her heartbeat. He was sliding his hands, fingers stretched out wide slowly down the duster, caressing it like it was a lover and she wanted to be that piece of leather right now. He wasn't as tall as the other guys she was used to, he wasn't bulky like them either and when he flashed bits of skin, teasing the crowd in front of him, she saw that instead of tanned skin he was as pale as the moon. She couldn't see his eyes from here but she found that she needed to.

As she wandered away from Angel and his section of the stage, she heard the exaggerated gasps of her friends, beckoning her back before she lost her precious seat. But she couldn't, she had to see more of him and pushed her way gently through the crowd of girls that had started to form around him. She noticed that they were all the same, dressed up in black with similar chains and spikes decorating their outfits, thick heavy makeup and different colored hair. It seemed he attracted a certain type, certainly not her. She made her way through the crowd so that she was pressed up against the stage, much closer than she was willing to get to Angel and hung off to his right, still nervous about where she was and not wanting to be directly in his vision. Now that she was up close, she could see his face. He had cheekbones that could cut glass and a sexy scowl that made him look tough...dangerous. His lips were full, pink and soft and she found herself wanting to know if they were as sweet as they looked. He wore a thick ring of eyeliner that accented his steel gray eyes and she saw that that he did indeed have a couple hoops in his left eyebrow.

Unlike Angel over there, she was entranced with his actual dance and the lyrics of the song drifted in.

_You let me violate you/you let me desecrate you/ you let me penetrate you/ you let me complicate you_

She was vaguely aware that her extremities were tingling, and her core felt hot as she watched him. His movements were subtle compared to Angel. Where Angel had been all about being loud with wide abrupt jerks, strokes and the blatant thrusting, Spike rolled his hips with a fluid grace that had her hypnotized, and he hadn't even taken his duster off yet. God did she want him to. The stark contrast between his dark look and that bone white hair was light and darkness. The announcer wasn't kidding that this man was sin himself. He looked exactly like the type of guy you never wanted to bring home to mom. But it was also strange that when she looked up at him she started getting that same feeling of being warm and safe, like she had been when the snow leopard had curled around her. The next time his hands made their way back up his body he shrugged off the duster gently tossed it behind him. More than a prop then, it was something he cherished. His heavy boots clamored off to the side as well.

Then he was making a show of taking off that tight black tee, ripping it straight off his tight hot little body. He was everything her formers were not. Thin, built but lithe, with muscle that was of the plenty but sexily toned rather than bulgy. His moonlight skin was stretched thin over all that muscle and sinew and bone as he flexed the bite able muscles of his upper arms. Holy cow his biceps were nice. Had she always been an arm person? He tossed his torn shirt to the side and undulated in slow rocking movements to the dark crooning of the singer. The song was more than invoking too, whispering nasty little things with that dark sensual beat in the background. She dragged her gaze down his body and noticed that he also had nipple rings, thick silver hoops that pierced his dusky nipples, just inviting anyone to come and play.

She wondered if he was as kinky as he looked or if it was just part of his act. He turned around then, facing away from her and rolling his hips towards the other side of the room. His tight jeans doing nothing to hide the fact that he had a nice ass, popping out in her direction. Had she always been an ass girl? God the way he moved was...beautiful. It looked like an actual dance, fluid and practiced compared to the erratic thrusting that made up Angel's routine. Sure, that might be provocative to some women, but in her case she would much rather have the soft tilt of Spike's hips. She watched the muscles of his pale back flex and retract and wondered what he would be like at her back, dancing and grinding up behind her his hips finding a steady rhythm with her as they danced to a song like this.

She felt a hand on her shoulder then and was broken from her little spell of a daydream. Anya and Willow were at her side then, angry and confused.

“Buffy!” Anya started and a few of the girls around the stage turned back to look at them like they were crazy, carrying on a spat while the gorgeous man in front of them continued to dance. “Your supposed to go and see Angel!”

Willow frowned. “Don't you want to?” Her lower lip quivering like she was about to cry. She hated this good cop, bad cop thing they had going on.

She sighed dejectedly. “I'm sorry An...Will”

Her friends did buy this special dance for her with their own money, as well as paying for the copious amount of shots she was drinking. She guessed it was the least she could do for them, right? It was only for a couple of minutes? She could sit through that.

She turned away from the angry gaze of her friend to look at Spike one more time, needing to take in a mental imagine of the bad boy slowly stripping. He hadn't even taken off his pants yet and she was honestly sad that she was going to miss it.

“Come on!' Anya's voice whined making her focus back on her again.

She was about to walk away from the stage, Anya insistently tugging on her, trying to pull her away from the crowd, while Willow idly looked up at the stage with no reaction, but she decided to take one last look back at him. Only now he was facing her directly, standing right above her and it felt like they were the only two people in the room, in the world even. She'd never seen eyes so...blue. Well except for...she let out an audible gasp. His eyes were just like the leopard of her dreams, impossibly blue, expressive and warm. It was then that she realized that he'd met her gaze, locked eyes with her. His sapphire eyes accented with those thick lines of eyeliner were boring into hers and she melted. She fucking melted and wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, grab onto him and not let go.

Her gaze raked across his silver skin, roaming over his narrow hips, drooling at the protrusion of his hipbones and the silver studs he had there too, and at the dip of his stomach that lead down to the pronounced V above the waist of his jeans. He rolled his hips towards her, flexing tight abdominal muscles and she could clearly see the outline of his cock under those jeans that definitely hadn't been there before. She audibly groaned up at him, biting her bottom lip and staring him down. She was close enough that she heard a returning groan in the back of his throat, low and dangerous before he abruptly turned the other way.

“Buffy look!” Willow slurred gesturing towards the shared juncture of the stage between the two men. Both of their music’s had cut and a new song cued up. Angel strutted towards the middle grabbing hold of the central pole first leaning back against it arms stretched above him as he grinded back against it, hips swinging side to side, jostling that bulging package barely held in his tiny G-string. The girls flocked from his side and crowed around that joined stage chanting and cheering his name.

But she couldn't focus much on the brute at the pole, she was too entranced with the devil on the left. He'd shucked the jeans now and she'd missed that show of course. Beneath the constricting pants she was surprised to see a pair of tight black shorts, not a G-string, accented with silver chains and spikes. Completely different from anything she ever expected and the goddamn sexiest thing she had ever seen. He had a smattering of dark hairs that disappeared into those shorts but was beautifully hairless otherwise. She noticed quickly, unable to draw her gaze away from the tightness of those shorts that she could no longer see any evidence of his previous arousal and she wondered briefly, hopefully, if it had been for her.

He reached center stage and they stood face to face, Angel still leaning against the pole, towering over Spike, and she didn't miss that spark of energy, of rivalry between the two alpha men, before Spike stepped into his space, paused for a moment before rolling his hips towards the larger man. The crowd around her went wild. Angel's fluffy white wings curved around them both and so began their dance of light and dark. Of heaven and hell. They moved in time with each other, Angel working off the pole while Spike moved in and around him. Even her friends, who seemed pretty angry with her a moment ago were in awe of the event unfolding before them and she wondered if they had seen her attention shift away from Angel to his pale counterpart.

Angel left the pole, did some solo dancing as he strutted around the stage and Spike took it up instead. Unlike Angel who she didn't think could even pick himself up to move around a pole, Spike was built more like a dancer with his narrow frame and smaller body. Instead of grinding up against the pole he grabbed onto it and climbed, wrapping himself around the metal, swinging himself in graceful arcs and twirls. He circled, it, flipping himself, turning upside down, and she watched him clench powerful thighs around it as he swung around without the use of hands, relying purely on lower body strength. She was addicted to the way he moved, imagined herself as that pole, trapped underneath all that power.

Their dance continued, they exchanged roles, danced together, danced alone and took turns at the poles until eventually the song ended and the crowed worked itself into a frenzy. After another heated glare between the two, they went back to their respective stages and continued separate dances. Angels music queued up with another R&B song while Spike's turned into dark rock song.

She found herself gazing at Spike again, moving to the more upbeat song then before, making use of his own private pole. She didn't want to have to stop watching him. He was so goddamn beautiful, fluid, rough. And despite that she got that feeling of safety again, of protection when she looked at the hard lines of his face. What was even going on here? Why she getting the same feeling she did in her dream?

“Buffy” The undeterred growling voice of Anya bringing her back to a cruel reality again.

“He's about to go off stage now. Its time” She pressured, grabbing a hold of her tiny wrist. She looked from her friends, their combined look of anger, guilt and confusion and back over her shoulder to Spike who right at them moment was looking in her direction with this...what was that look in his eyes? A sharp tug to her wrist had anger flaring up in her. No. No she was putting her foot down. Enough was enough.

“An look...I'm sorry but I really don't want to go down into some creepy backroom with no one around while that guy” She gestured towards Angel, predictably thrusting erratically again “grinds all up on me”

Anya looked flabbergasted. The utter shock on her face made her feel guilty.

“But Buffy...we already paid! We spent money on you! Lots of money! Do you know how difficult it was to get you in his schedule? Even for a five-minute song. Where you’re the only one he's focusing on.... I even paid for full Monty!”

She had felt guilty about it. She did. She didn't want to hurt her friend's feelings. She should have just resigned herself to her fate, sat through the couple of minutes and been done with it. Let her friends think she was enjoying herself while some beef cake grinded against her, shoving...parts…in her face. But that last bit? The full Monty? That was the straw that broke the camel's back. She definitely didn't want him waving his dick around in her face, not when she didn't want it. She hadn't wanted to start with her friends, especially in a public place, but it looked like she was getting one. She blamed all the liquor.

“And I didn't ask you to!” She hissed, crossing her arms under her breasts. “All **_I_** wanted was to stay in for the night. Eat ice cream and watch movies like we normally do and you guys had to drag me out here, thinking that he” gesturing towards Angel. “was a good present. That giving me a lap dance...and naked lap dance apparently, was going to solve my loneliness and my anger towards Riley. Did you think this was going to get me back in the dating game? Well you were wrong. I think it’s actually the opposite of helpful. Thanks for trying to set me up with a guy that reminds me of that jerk and what he did to me”

She uncrossed her arms, stepping out of Anya's grasp.

“I'm sorry you spent your precious money on me thinking that a guy basically dry fucking me was going to work as an acceptable present when I think I need to just....deal with this Riley thing the usual way. And plus...” And she could feel the scowl across her face “He's not even that great looking. So why don't one of you go and see him. Get your money's worth.” She looked at them with their blank stares. She was glad Tara wasn't here to see this because she probably would have felt guilty about blowing up at her, knowing the girl probably didn't have anything to do with this.

She wanted so badly to keep watching Spike, but her friends had seen that her mood was thoroughly soured now. Now she just wanted to get the hell out of dodge and go home. Cuddle up in her bed with some chocolate ice cream and watch some sappy romance movie or something in her yummy sushi pajamas. When they said nothing in response she just sighed heavily and pushed her way away from them, through the crowd of screaming girls and away from **_him_** too. She felt the hot prickles of tears in her eyes as she marched away heading for the exit of the club. It was a relief when she burst through the doors out into the cold January night. She took a deep shuddering breath in, cold air filling her lungs. She felt calmer out here, more peaceful. The cold had never much bothered her anyways.

A couple of tears rolled down her cheeks, heavy and warm against the cold air. She so didn't want to be the girl crying out in front of the strip club and she was sure she looked pathetic. Her makeup probably smudging and leaving trails down her face. She hugged herself and walked around to the side of the building, to a narrow alleyway separating from the next building over. There was a bench here, with an ashtray next to it that she figured the dancers used between acts. It wasn't until a few moments of sitting there, letting the cold sink into her that she realized in her storming out she had forgotten to grab her coat and bag from their original seats near Angel.

“Fuck” She mumbled to herself. She didn't mind the cold, but the chill was starting to settle into her bones what with half a top and all. She couldn't go back in there though, at least not now. She would have to go back in eventually to get her things and to meet back up with her friends, they were her ride home after all, but at the current moment she was so embarrassed and upset with them she just needed to stay away from them until they had all calmed down.

What a thoroughly shitty day.

She hugged herself, trying to will away the cold and it made her remember her dream again. It had been cold there too. She was shivering and frozen, lost and upset and then the leopard was there, watching her with those haunting blue eyes. Just like him. To say he was hot was quite possibly the biggest understatement of the year. There was no comparison for her between the two men that had been sharing the stage. She was replaying his dance in her head, the bits she had seen before she'd stormed out. It was dark and sexy the way he moved to that industrial rock. He was provocative but in a subtle way and from the moment she saw him move she had felt the stirrings of that deep-rooted lust in the pit of her belly. With the way that he moved around the stage, she wondered how it translated to off stage.

She entertained the thought of getting her hands on him. Her little fingers digging into the muscular planes of his cut body, up his pecs and playing with the hoops that he had there. She imagined the noises he would make if she were to tug on them a bit. Would it make him gasp and moan and grow hard under those tight shorts? God she could only imagine what that felt like. Was his platinum hair soft under all that gel? She imagined that his kisses were like his dancing, sensual and seductive, slow and needy and consuming. She was wet thinking about him. They had connected there for a few moments, eyes full of fire but she also felt that when he looked into his eyes, he could see right through her. That he could read every thought and see the parallels she was seeing between her dream and right now.

She didn't even know the guy. Nothing but a name and she already felt more connected to him than she had with Riley. Riley...that bastard. How dare that lunk of a guy, that good ole farmers boy from Iowa do that to her?! The logical part of her brain knew she wasn't the wrong party here. He was the one that had broken the trust and destroyed their friendship, not her. Yet she sat here on this bench by herself outside on a cold January night, on her birthday no less, crying her eyes out and couldn't help but think it was all her fault.

What had she done wrong? What didn't she have that his phony vampire whore had? Was she not pretty enough? Did she not satisfy him? Was she not worthy of love? All of these thoughts had plagued her head for weeks now. In front of her friends she was strong and resilient, acting like it didn't bother her when really it was killing her inside. This feeling of inadequacy. Why hadn't she been enough?

This time when she hugged herself it wasn't from the cold. She tried to stifle the onslaught of tears, but they wouldn't stop anymore. She sobbed into the sleeve of her shirt; her little cries only made louder by the silence of the night.

When she heard the creak of the metal door to her left her head shot up and she quickly rubbed away her tears, tried to hide the fact that she’d been a pathetic little girl crying outside by herself. But her makeup was probably running and so she wasn't sure why she was bothering. She was convinced it was security, laughing and looking at her through their little cameras telling her that she wasn't supposed to be here and to get the hell away.

When she looked up from wiping away her tears, ready to apologize to whoever came through that door she froze and found herself staring directly into blue eyes. Spike. He stood in front of the door, fully dressed in an outfit exactly like the one he wore on stage, leather duster billowing around him in the winter wind, his soft looking lips wrapped around a cigarette while he thumbed a zippo lighter. He seemed frozen for a second too, probably wondering why this girl was sitting out here where she wasn't supposed to be and she dropped her gaze in shame. She heard the click of his lighter opening, the soft burning sound of the cig being lit, the metal clang of it being shut and the long exhaling breath he made as he exhaled. Then the fluttering of leather and suddenly she was warmer. Her cold exposed shoulders didn't feel the bite of the wind and she in took a deep breath of smoke and leather. She realized then that his coat was draped around her, about three sizes too big but it was warm from his body heat.

She dared to look up at him again and found him leaning against the wall of the building opposite of her, taking a long drag off his cigarette, cool as a cucumber.

She dragged her gaze down the length of his body, his tight black shirt showing off every dip and bulge of muscle and she could see the outline of his nipple rings pressed tight against his shirt. If he was cold, he made no indication of it,

She huddled into the leather and couldn't help but smile a little. She got the feeling that behind all of that silver and leather and the cloud of cigarette smoke was a decent man.

Her head was such a jumbled mess right now, a kaleidoscope of colors and emotions, each twisting and turning. She was happy one moment, horny the next, sad and bitter the next after that. Why couldn't they have just stayed in? Why did they have to prod and try and make things better? She loved her friends, but couldn't they see she needed to deal with this on her own?

She was furious then. Why did they have to be here on her birthday?! Did they really think that getting a lap dance from some buff guy that reminded them of Riley was going to make her just get over him? She sighed in defeat. How was that even supposed to help? How was having a naked man going to make her feel adequate...wanted...loved...make her forget that Riley had abandoned her, just like everyone else...Why?

“Alright there pet?” His low silky voice asked.

Oh god. He was English. She melted at the sound of that voice shivered and she knew it wasn't the cold. It slid over her body, causing a chain reaction from her nipples to her core. Was it possible to feel this good just by listening to someone speak

She raised her eyes to meet his, locked in place again by his rich sapphire eyes.

“Uh...yeah...s..sorry. I know I probably shouldn't be out here I just....”

“Needed to get away?” He finished flicking ash off the cherry of his cig. Could this guy read minds or something? “No need to apologize luv. I get it. Too much going on in there. It's overwhelming innit?”

_It’s like he's plucking thoughts out of my head. How the hell is he doing this?_

“Not to mention you looked right brassed with your mates in there. What they do thas’got you so upset you feel you gonna be out here by yourself in the cold?”

She was stunned, the wheels in her head turning as she studied him and wondered how he'd known what had transpired with her friends when he was clearly busy up on the stage.

“How did you know...that we had a fight?”

He chuckled lightly and the sound reverberated through her bones.

“Got eyes don't I? 'S hard to ignore a stunning woman like you when she's staring like that. Don't think I didn’t notice what happened in there. Makes a bloke feel like he's wanted. Does things to him. Had to turn away from you. Not just because I had to do my job but because you had such an effect on me and needed to cool down. Doesn't mean I wasn't keeping an eye on you. Saw your little friends tugging at you, that you didn't want to go with em and they got upset about it.... then you were gone”

Stunning? He'd said she was stunning right? And that they'd had something there? And she was doing things to him? Her brain flashed her the image of the hard outline of his cock through those shorts. Her brain seemed to have trouble listening today. He's called her stunning and in not so many words that he wanted her too? Was that even possible? But even more than that. He noticed her.

Noticed the interaction of her friends, even the feel of the argument all while putting on an amazing show. Wait...he'd watched her go? Oh god she must look like a mess right now. She wiped at her face again, remembering too late that she was wearing his jacket.

“Oh god shit...I'm sorry” She blurted rubbing at the sleeves. “I'm such a mess. Here take it back. I don't want to mess it up. It looks expensive” She rambled, tears threatening again. Goddammit could she not cry right now? He must think her pathetic. But then he was kneeling before her. She hadn't even seen him move from the wall and before she could say anything his hand was cupping her face, thumb brushing against her cheek and wiped away her tears and the black smudges of her makeup.

“'S alright luv. Just a jacket. What’s the matter?”

Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes met his again, the softness there, that sparkling blue warmth that enveloped her whole body, just like when she snuggled in with the leopard. She felt like she could tell him anything. She leaned into him, comforted by his warmth and when she opened her mouth, she found herself spilling himself to him.

“My friends brought me here because they wanted to help me get over Riley. He was my boyfriend and....he cheated on me...and I guess they thought that seeing another guy would make me feel better about it or something. Take my mind off him by replacing him with some guy that they thought looked like him”

“Bloody wanker” He growled

She had no idea what that word meant, but the aggressiveness of his voice startled her.

“W..What?” She questioned her voice trembling.

“This Riley tosser. He cheated on a gorgeous girl like you? Was there something wrong with him?”

Her face fell.

“I dunno.... I didn't think so. He was everything I wanted. He was sweet and funny. He was in the military and played sports and we got along great. Then one day I go to surprise him at a party in my college and I walked in to find some...vamp wannabe biting at him, sucking on his neck while he was buried inside her”

The sound that came from his throat would have been terrifying if not for the fact that he was still stroking her cheek with a gentleness that was so starkly different. A small spark grew in her chest. Twice now he had told her she was beautiful, even after seeing her crying and teared stained he looked at her like she was the center of the world.

“And it made me think about it…about us...why...why after all this time together...what changed? I thought we were happy and that we were good together. Why wasn't I enough!” She shouted and then slunk back tore her face away from his grip. “Why wasn't I enough” She repeated quietly, sadly. Fresh hot tears poured out, all the shit she'd been keeping to herself, things she'd buried away to keep this from happening, from coming apart. But then she was warm and pulled tight against his hard-muscular body. He settled her with her headed cradled to his shoulder, an arm loosely wrapped around her shoulder while the other threaded long slim fingers through her hair.

“You were more than enough pet. Only just met you and can say without a doubt that you are the kind of person who is full of love. Would have done anything for that tosser. I can see it in those dazzling emerald eyes of yours. Just like I can see that you may be mad at those chits, but you still love them unconditionally. There's something wrong with him, not you. A man who does that to his lady...breaks that trust...he's a bloody coward. He doesn't deserve you sweetling” He murmured comfortingly and stroked her hair.

She sniffled beneath him, but started to feel better, just listening to the rumbling of his voice, the way it vibrated through her body as he talked. His sweet and comforting words.

After a few moments of sniffling and getting over the tears that kept threatening to fall she finally found her voice.

“I'm sorry...your probably out here on a break, just trying to have a smoke before you have to get back in there and dazzle more women and I'm just telling my stupid sad story and crying and ruining your leather and oh god I'm rambling again” Her breath catching in another choke of a sob

“Don't need to apologize. Not for anything. Not ever. What he did to you? That's unforgivable. And you want the truth of it?” He asked her pausing, pulling her away from his shoulder staring into her eyes. She nodded. The sudden tone of his voice, the way he was staring at her. It had her entranced to hear what he had to say.

“I came out here to find you pet. After seeing you in there, watching me the way you did. I wanted to see you after I was done that little routine, but then I saw that fight go down and then you were gone”

“You...you came to find me?” She parroted and he nodded. “Because you...saw the way I watched you. You do know your...well..”

“A stripper?” He questioned “Yeah got that all sussed out”

“Then you know that a lot of girls....and I think a couple guys too were watching you just then. You were kind of hard not to watch you know”

“Not like you did” He said with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“And...and how is that exactly?”

He paused for a moment before speaking again  
“Like you were watching the man behind the costume”

“That's ridiculous. Of course, your more than that. You’re not just some...thing...you know. Not just an object. You seem like a really good guy.

“Ta pet, your too kind.

“I liked the costume though...” She admitted quietly, flushing under his gaze, letting him take it however he wanted. She wasn't used to flirting like this, but it didn't feel awkward or pressured and she was surprised with how easy it came with him. He rumbled appreciatively but said nothing and it lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few moments before he spoke again.

“Not on a smoke break either love. Done for the night”

“That was a pretty short set. I thought you guys went for like...hours or something. Figured that was how you guys stayed so fit”

“It doesn't go on nearly that long. Only dance for a little bit before the next bloke comes on. Sometimes we come back for an encore later, but it’s a way to increase the hype. I was on a bit longer than usual because of that feature of the night and all that rot. Was really just here to do a show with that bloody git Liam and any special dances that might have been requested.

“Dances...oh right...I should let you get back to that” She said with a frown. She had almost forgot that he was on borrowed time. She knew he was done dancing for the night but what if some girl had paid money for him to dance privately for her, like her friends had done for her with Angel. “I'm probably taking you away from all your income just by talking to you”

“Income. You think I care about that over sitting out here alone with a gorgeous girl?”

She shrugged. “Everyone cares about money. I know it’s expensive for your clients after all”

“Oh, you do, do you?” He growled defensively. “And how, pray tell, do you know all about that?”

“...Because my friends bought me a lap dance for my birthday with that...bloody git Angel because they thought it would make me feel better and then guilted me because it was expensive when I said I didn't want it!” Happy!”

The bitter scowl he was wearing dropped in an instant.

“Oh pet. Christ I'm sorry. Here I am, acting like a bloody pratt because you've got yourself a lap dance with some other bloke and its only because you were practically being forced into it. I came out here to find you, suss out what was going on, indulge you in a bit of comfort and I'm just bolloxing that up”

She sighed heavily

“Not its...it’s not your fault. I'm sorry. I have no right to judge you like that...God I'm so stupid” She cursed, tears springing again.

“No pet...fuck...no I... what’s your name sweetheart?”

A pleasant shiver went down her spine from that rich voice.

“It’s Buffy Summers”

“Buffy” he repeated softly, like he was testing the way it sounded. “Well Buffy. Let me just say that you've made the correct decision in turning a lap dance down from that git. I've seen the way he moves, way he treats his client. He's got no class when it comes to the dance” He said with a disgusted sneer on his face.

She giggled

“Yeah I noticed. He really goes all out with the uh...thrusting” And she cast her eyes downward, embarrassed. Shed really had never been one to talk about sex. “Part of the reason I didn't want a dance from him.

He scoffed “Yeah. Likes to throw it in girlies faces. I think it’s a compensation thing”

Her eyes went wide. Oh...he was talking about...She snuck a quick glance down to his groin and favored the memory of him in his little black shorts sporting a very noticeable stiffy. She was shocked out of the daydream by his smooth voice.

“Careful pet. Gonna give a fella ideas with stares like that”

Her eyes snapped up meeting darkened blue eyes, lust filled and predatory.

“I um…well” She stuttered

He chuckled again, rich and dark.

“How old are you today Buffy?” He asked

Old. Birthday. Age. She could answer this one even with her brain all melty. Probably.

“Twenty-one” She mumbled “I know cheesy right. Girlfriends taking their newly adulted friend out to get drinks and look at hot guys strip”

“Twenty-one huh” He questioned backing away again and quickly lighting up another cigarette. “Happy birthday Buffy”

“Thanks...although its shaping up to be a pretty bad birthday. They always are though, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised” She muttered sadly, kicking at the ground below her like a sullen child.

“Your mates. They always pull stunts like this on your birthday?”

“Not always. Sometimes. I know they mean well...I just wished they would have asked me earlier about the whole...special dance thing. It would have saved a lot of grief. They'll probably be made at me for a week. I just hope An gets her money's worth. She was ranting and raving about him after all”

“What about the other two birds? They don't get a say?”

“Well...they're together...with each other. Very much with the gay”

“Err...right. Should have picked up on that”

“You do seem observant. I kinda can't believe you didn't”

“Already said it before. It was hard to focus on anyone other than you” He reached his hand towards her and her breath hitched as he slipped it into one of the pockets, feeling the brush of his fingers against her thigh and pulled out a flask. He raised it to those perfect lips and took a large shot of whatever was in there and she felt that deep sitting of lust, those intense feelings that so far only he'd been able to invoke. 

“D’u know how good on the ego it is when a woman like you walks away from another bloke?” He leered, blue eyes sparkling. “Especially that ponce”

She couldn't believe that this man, probably the sexiest guy she'd ever seen, was really talking to her like this. It was baffling that it was her, her of all girls. Not when so many others had cast her aside. And it wasn't the least bit awkward or creepy.

“I... I still don't get why you keep saying that. I saw the girls that were watching you. A lot of them were a lot prettier...a lot bustier and revealing and dressed more like you” She reasoned. Was she trying to talk a hot guy like him out of wanting her? Why was she doing this to herself?

He capped off the flask and stuck it back where he’d retrieved it from.

“Let me clue you in on something luv. Not every man likes a bird whose poppin’ out of her shirt and filled with silicon. Not every man wants to see a woman in shorts that may as well be knickers. It takes away the mystery. Ruins the bloody surprise. Cause those bints? You know exactly what they're lookin for. Those girls are the ones who look at me like I'm an object, a toy, dancing up there for their amusement ready to do anything for them at the snap of their little fingers” He chuckled darkly “Not that I'm not up for a bit of ordering around....but not by them. They're fake. And I don't fancy fake luv”

His fingers brushed the lapels of his jacket pulling them back slightly and ran cold fingers over her exposed neck and collarbone. She shivered in reaction, feeling it all the way down to her toes. Tingles that penetrated her entire body.

“This little number however...this lets the imagination run wild. It's a bleedin mystery what might be under here”

Her breath shuddered as he ghosted those thin fingers between the open gap of the duster, nearly brushing the side of one of her covered breasts.

“Goes with your eyes too luv. Do that on purpose did you?” He questioned, cocking his head.

She couldn't find words. He kept going.

“You are...beautiful” He murmured letting his hand fall away from her and her breath got caught in her throat, waiting for the next word, the next movement. Was it wrong that she wanted to push back into his touch? Know what it was like for him to really touch her? She'd only just met him, but she didn't think she'd ever been turned on like this before. But it couldn't be like that could it? There's no way this fine, sexy English gentleman wanted her like this. He was a stripper. This is what he did. Made women feel wanted. The second the thought crossed her mind, she felt guilty though. Who was she to judge him like that? Somehow she knew it wasn't true. But how could she believe him when she'd been cast aside so easily by men who'd said the same pretty words to her.

“You’re just saying that” She whispered sadly “It’s my birthday and I've had a shitty day. Your just being nice”

“Really not. 'S been a long time since I've met a woman who's made me feel this way. Seeing you watch me like that” and he let out a shudder of his own. A beautiful sound that she wouldn't mind hearing over again. “That was a bloody revelation”

She suddenly grew frustrated

“How the hell am I supposed to believe that! Your...your so” and she started gesturing towards his body not able to form the right words, too embarrassed to say them “And I'm...I'm not...I'm not like you. How could I possibly believe that you really mean that?”

“I don't get hard on stage luv” He whispered lasciviously, curling his tongue behind his teeth. She felt the heat roll through her with that, it made her wet and she hazily wondered what that tongue was capable of.

“Don't get...”She repeated under her breath, her brain conjuring the image of him hard and curved under those shorts.

“Oh...but..no...you can't mean that” She stumbled

He cocked his head.

“What did those berks do to you?”

Her eyebrow furrowed

“What did...what?”

“What did they do to you that's stripped you of your confidence. Made you feel like you aren't worth anything?”

“I..” She couldn't find the words. He was hypnotizing, magnetic. Magic.

“Let me show you” He spoke softly, gently but with a darker purpose. Coaxing her to dance with the devil.

She wasn't normally the kind of girl to do this. To meet a guy and immediately get to the kissing...or more. But then again, she hadn't ever felt the pull like this before.

He stepped into her, those deep cobalt eyes nearly black with his own lust and he snaked his right arm around her waist and cupped her face with his left, tilting it back and kissed her. His lips moved slowly against hers, swallowing her up and they were just as soft as she'd imagined them. She hesitantly kissed him back, trembling compared to his confidence, and he if noticed he didn't care. He was threading long fingers through her silky hair again and running his tongue along the seam of her lips. She parted them with a sigh, letting him in and slanted his lips over hers and devoured her. She heard the growl in the back of his throat as he greedily thrust his tongue against hers, sucking on, consuming her. Her body was on fire and she let go, crushing herself against the hardness of his body and throwing her arms around his neck grabbing at the fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

She expected them to be hard and gelled but was pleasantly surprised when she found them soft and curly. She imagined what the rest of his hair looked like when it wasn't spiked up as it was. Curly and wet from the shower, roots showing, naked saved for a towel, all lithe muscle and dangerous V and the outline of him bulging against the constraint of that thin piece of cloth. She whimpered into him, meeting his languorous pace, daring to explore his mouth and he eagerly let her. Slid her tongue over his lips, across his teeth and then his tongue and... what the hell? She pulled back abruptly wondering what the hell that was.

“Piercing luv” He rumbled against her, answering her question before she'd even asked it, taking the time away from her pretty lips to nibble at her jaw, the slope of her neck, her throat. She moaned beneath him, never knowing it could be such an erotic area. She couldn't remember a time someone had paid any attention to her neck like this, like it was a chalice.

“Got them all over”

Another shiver went down her spine. Dragging what felt like a little ball down her neck, leaving trails that burned and then cooled.

 _All over...like...oh...oh_ She thought to herself in a haze of pleasure.

His hand drifted down to the crux of her thighs and cupped her through her jeans. She gasped and grabbed onto him tightly, loving that she was nearly his height. For once she didn't feel like she had to bend her head backwards to be able to properly kiss. He rubbed her through her jeans, precise and furious, dexterous fingers pinpointed her clit like he had some kind of radar. How was that even possible? Most men couldn't even find the damn thing if they were staring at it. No one else...Riley especially, they had such trouble. Or what is that they didn't care? Fuck she needed to stop thinking about that jerk when the man getting her off through her jeans was working some kind of magic.

It was slow building, a coiling in her belly making her pant and writhe for more and she hadn't felt like this in a while, long before things started to fall out with Riley. He pressed kisses back up and down her throat and jaw, lascivious little things like he was tasting her with every one. She was vaguely aware that she was standing in an alley of a strip club in the middle of downtown Sunnydale where anyone could walk by and see them, but she couldn't bring herself to tell him to stop. Didn't want him to. Didn't care in that moment that anyone saw. Let them see this hot thing going on between two people who are practical strangers. The steady climb to her peak had made her mind fuzzy anyways.

“Spike” She gasped against his lips, feeling that the pleasant feeling was about to boil over. How had he brought her here this fast? She pulled away from his sweet full lips, needing breath but not wanting to separate from him.

“I've got you kitten” He murmured, fingers speeding up, going into overtime as she came closer to the edge. “I've got you. Let go” He left more kisses down her throat, across her collarbone and at the skin just above the edge of her top, tongue flicking just underneath the fabric, prodding and teasing but he went no further.

“Spike” His name falling from her lips again. “So close. So close” She found herself chanting, desperate to fall over the edge, desperate for him to bring her there.

“That's it baby, sweet girl, it’s okay, come for me” He coaxed with that rich velvety voice,

She felt it well up all around, heard the roar in the back of her head, felt the powerful fluttering of her depraved pussy as her orgasm slammed into her. She keened her release, screaming his name which he quickly drunk down when he slammed his lips against hers. Soft and warm, chapped and slightly swollen they covered hers again and she never wanted to let them go. She grinded against him, dizzy with lust as he clutched her tightly to him, his clothed cock digging into her belly. She'd never felt like this before, like an orgasm was powerful enough to take over the entirety of her. A full body quaking that shook her to the core and completely drenched her panties.

She rode it out and was stunned that it seemed to last that long. She'd certainly had never had one feel like it was going on forever. When she finally started to come down, he was sweeping her up into his strong arms, cradling her with corded biceps against his rock hard body.

“So bloody beautiful when you come” He cooed, petting her hair, pressing kisses where he could, fingers massaging her lower back through her top. “Christ I'll never forget that as long as I live”

She flushed at that, not used to having someone comment on the way she looked after coming. Wasn't used to anyone talking to her about anything dirty or sexy. After several minutes with her head resting against his shoulder, trying to catch her breath again, she pulled away from him and stole a glance. Those lapis eyes were locked onto her own, a contentment in them that confused her. He hadn't gotten off from that, not that she was aware of anyways, so why was he so content? Was he really just happy with making her cum? Were there guys even like that?

“I've never....” She started

“Never...?” And his eyebrow cocked, hanging on every word

“Never come that hard” She whispered, still meeting his gaze. “And that was...”

The growl that came from his throat could only be described as possessive.

“Only the beginning.... that is...if you want it”

“Yes” The word out without a second thought. There was no hesitation here. She wanted this. Wanted him. His eyes narrowed at her response, as if trying to gauge if she was being serious, completely honest with him. Finally he spoke again.

“Come home with me” He asked, his voice a pleading whisper. She was never confident with guys, couldn't gauge them well to judge what they were after or what they wanted. But with Spike, she was one hundred percent sure that she knew what he wanted, and that they were on the same page about it.

“Yes” She agreed just as quickly

His eyes widened with shock, but she watched as his entire body sagged with relief and then tensed up again in anticipated excitement.

“Bloody hell, come on then” He was tugging her forward, towards the exit of the alley, out the opposite way she'd come in.

“Wait!” She whispered, pulling back against him and huddling into his duster.

“What is it pet....not having second thoughts are you?” His voice taking on a hesitant tone.

_Oh...he thought I changed my mind that quick? A spur of the moment thing? It's sweet that as confident as he is...he was still so insecure._

“Much with the no. I very much want to go with you” And she couldn't help but melt when a smile graced his face. He looked just as good with a smile as he did with that sexy scowl. He was charming and heartwarming, honest and real and it didn't hurt that he had the body and sexual prowess of a god. Not that he needed to know that right now.

“It’s just...my coat and bag. I stormed out of the place so fast that I left them in our seats and never got a chance to go back and get them”

He seemed relieved at that.

“That all lamb? I'll fetch em for you. They've probably been taken to the office by now, I'll grab em from there, your mates won’t even know I'm the one to have picked them up”

Her eyebrows furrowed

“Why would that matter?”

“Buffy, luv. I hope you haven't forgotten what I am”

She scoffed

“A hot guy being ridiculous?” She questioned

“A stripper...” He replied cautiously. “You haven't forgotten what I do in there, have you?”

“I dunno” She shrugged “My brain was turned to mush when said hot guy gave me an orgasm so intense I think I might have seen stars”

He gaped at her, flickers of awe and joy, caution and lust across his face. His eyes stormy blue, no doubt reflecting the chaos going on in his mind,

“You’re not a secret” She reassured. “I'm twenty-one. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I can go home with whoever I want. My friends aren't the boss of me Spike, and I don't have parents to tell me no. I'll call my little sister on the way to your house and let her know I'll be out. And I'll message my friends later to let them know I'm safe. But I don't need to tell them why and there's not a damn thing from stopping me from wanting you and wanting to go home with you”

She watched the look on his face go from skeptical to determined in a flash. In their closeness, she could see his pupils dilate and he pulled her in for another searing kiss. It was rough and sexy and held the promise of everything that was to come. She didn't want to have to wait anymore. She pushed him away, panting in desire, a buzzing going through her body.

“Go. Hurry” She hissed, shooing him away from her.

“Wait right here pet, be just a tic” And he flung himself through the side door, slamming it shut behind him.

She took these moments to bring herself down. Her body was warm and buzzing like she was drunk, but she was pretty sure the cold had sobered her up and that this had nothing to do with the shots of whiskey she'd taken with the girls and everything to do with the sexy punk guy. She was surprised with herself. She would have never done something like this before. Run off with a guy, a stripper no less, not that his profession had anything to do with it, the night that she met him so he could take her back and let him bed her. She never would have had to confidence to make it happen, even if she wanted it. He of course was the one who had initiated, but not one bit of her found any of this wrong. There were no red flags in the back of her head, no voices telling her to stop what she was doing right this instance, to go back and grovel to her friends and go home alone.

In fact, her body was thrumming. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt like this in any of the sexual relationships she'd been in. She thought of him and his spiked hair, thick eyeliner, lean muscle and all those delicious sounds that came from his snow-white throat and her pussy throbbed in anticipation of something thick and hard to fill it. It made her wetter than she'd ever been. The only thing that had ever come close...was her dream. Strange. She'd never really believed in fate, destiny or coincidence but she had to admit that it was impossible to not to notice the similarities between the leopard of her dream, with eyes so blue and pale as the moon and with Spike.

While she waited for him she idly dug her hands into the pockets of his duster and pulled out a simple black wallet, the flask, a (second) pack of cigarettes, a couple safety pins, an eyeliner pen, a single old looking car key, a smaller silver key, a ticket stub for some band called Rancid (eww) for a show in LA a couple days ago and a thick clipped wad of cash. She was pretty sure her eyes were bugging out of her head. She didn't think she'd ever seen this much cash in person, even if it was all in ones. It was with a slow realization that this was probably his tip money. A mixture of crisp and worn bills that had been previously stuffed in between his tight costume shorts and warm hard flesh. The curious part of her brain wondered how much a guy as hot as him made in one night.

_Oh that's great Buff. I'm sure he gets asked that question all the time. Along with do you have sex with all your clients? I'm sure he loves answering those kinds of questions. Especially when they come from a girl he's about to actually have sex with. He'd probably think I'm only doing him for the money or something. Lets just file that away for questions to never ever bring up in conversation ever, ever again._

She briefly thought of her friends too, the looks on their faces when she'd snapped at them. Poor Willow not used to anyone raising their voice to her looked as though she was about to cry. Those big brown eyes of hers wide and watering, her lower lip trembling. She probably would have if Tara hadn't been clutched onto her for emotional support. And oh god Tara. She hadn't meant to hurt her. She figured that it had less to do with her outright refusal of their present and more to do with Willow being upset. None the less, she was going to have to apologize to her as well. Anya. Anya was going to be the tough one. She and the shop owner tended to butt heads the most anyways, as they both tended to be extremely stubborn when it came to basically any decision. Most likely she'd be talking to her friend through Xander for the next week or so before they were cool enough to start speaking again. But things like this had happened before, they'd survive not speaking for a few days.

The last time it had been because she had taken something from Anya's inventory at the magic shop she ran. A damned candle of all things. A candle. And Anya stopped talking to her for a week, claiming that she was robbing her of her precious money and this wasn't how capitalism worked! Phooey on capitalism, she needed the mood light for her date with Riley that night. She guessed the length of Anya's ire depended on if she took the lap dance for herself or was able to get a refund.

Spike returned moments later, keeping to his promise about returning quickly. He burst through the door, in the same fashion he had left and got this awed look on his face like he hadn't expected her to be there when he got back. She recognized the way he acted, the body language who had been hurt because of another person letting them down constantly. That timidness that underlined every action. It was clear to her that under the swagger and the confidence there was a lot of underlying pain and insecurity. She'd wondered who hurt him? Parents? Friend? Lover? All of the above?

She slipped out of the duster, already missing the warmth of the warm leather and the smell of him around her and handed it to him in exchange for her little green coat and bag.

“Very fetching” He complimented lighting up a cigarette quicker than her eye could track

“Thanks” She preened, running fingers through the fluff around the neck. “It was my mom’s”

He gave her a little half smile and after stuffing the lighter and pack of cigs away he reached out to grab her hand, stopping tentatively before he touched it. With a smile she met him the rest of the way, little fingers sliding between his long slender ones and firmly grasping hold of him. The half-smile turned to a full one, flashing white teeth. Her heart swelled

_He's got such a sweet smile. I want to see it more. I want to see **him** more. This whole thing was so...random. I wouldn't have met him if I didn't come here with my friends. I've only barely met him and...is it weird that I want to ask him out? Can I even do that? Or is he just looking for a one-night thing?_

He led her to his car, a great black thing that looked ancient but well taken care of. He helped her into it, gentlemen that he was, before he climbed in himself.

She took one last look at Mystery from over her shoulder and sighed heavily

“Second thoughts?” He asked again, that hesitancy in his voice

“No. No second thoughts, we've established this. Was just thinking about my friends”

“Can go back”

“No...I'm good. I promise. Like I said, they'll deal. I'll deal. We'll both deal....its a dealing thing” She mumbled off to herself and he gave a small sort of chuckle at that.

“I'm just gonna call my little sister now” Pulling out her mobile.

“Course pet” He turned the dial to the radio down and rested his hands comfortably on the wheel, working magic with a stick and hand/leg movements.

She dialed the house, hoping Dawn wouldn't be too upset with her, or even pick up the phone at all. She wasn't always known to be the most reliable of girls. She picked up on the fourth ring.

“Summers residence”

“Dawnie it’s me”

“Buffy! What’s up? I thought you were supposed to be busy right now, you know, with the dancing guy thing?”

She groaned. She told Anya to leave out the details of what they were doing, but of course because she didn't see anything wrong with it, it was obvious for a fifteen-year-old to know that they were going to a strip club and what went on at them.

“I...well...Dawnie look, I didn't wind up having a very good time. I didn't know that's what they were planning for my birthday of all things and I wasn't interested in the guy they'd picked out or whatever” She cast a sideways glance over to Spike who had this little smirk on his face. “We kinda.... we kinda had a fight” She sighed

“You’re fighting! No! You’re not allowed to fight!” Her sisters high pitched squeal of disapproval was so loud she wasn't surprised when Spike turned his head with eyebrows raised. She gave him a sheepish smile.

“Dawnie, I promise it’s just like the candle incident. I just got really mad at them okay, just like Anya got really mad at me. You have to understand that I was really uncomfortable and she, okay Willow was involved too, but mainly it was Anya forcing the whole thing on me. Tried to guilt me into it and everything”

“Well...was this guy hot?”

“No....I didn't think so anyways”

“Well....crisis avoided I guess.... I’m sorry you didn't have a very good time”

_Oh I've had a good time, and I doubt it’s going to get any worse._

“So are you coming home now then?”

She paused. She'd never had this kind of conversation before. Mainly because she'd never done something like before. Should she tell her the truth? She was trying to be completely honest with her sister. Now that it was just the two of them, she wanted them to always be there for each other and she wanted to teach her little sister good habits. The truth it was then.

“Buffy?”

She sighed

“No not exactly”

A paused

“Well what does that mean? If your mad at them shouldn't you come home then?” Her sister paused for another second. “Oh my god! Are you going to run away again! Buffy you can't leave!” She screeched

She could tell the man beside her was staring at her without having to look.

_Better get used to it Spikey, if this is going to be a thing, Dawnie comes with the package, and I can't guarantee your hearing will be as good after a while_

“No Dawn, I'm not leaving” She reassured. “No I...well I met someone at the club”

Another long pause

“A guy someone?” He sisters voice hopeful

“Yeah Dawn, a guy someone”

“You don't sound drunk. Are you going to boink him? Is that why you aren't coming home?

She flushed red. She hated that Dawn already knew about all of this stuff. But the girl was fifteen and when she got into high school, she made sure she'd had 'the talk' with her asap. Not to mention she probably heard about it from Anya who was very liberal with the information she shared about her sex life with Xander.

“Well....I think so yeah”

She paused again.

“Is he hot?” That girly voice of hers coming through, the one that she got when they were talking shopping and famous actors.

She looked over at Spike, who seemed just as interested in the conversation now. Staring into those liquid blue gray eyes she felt comfort and lust and happiness and a wide ray of other emotions.

“Yeah. Totally hot. Like off the charts”

She heard Dawn giggle.

“I don't think I've ever heard you this happy in a while Buffy. He must be”

The look Spike gave her when she looked over shot tingles straight down to her clit, dark and dangerous. She couldn't wait to get back to his place. She needed to finish here with Dawn before she got all carried away. Be the responsible sister.

“Are you and Xander going to be okay until Willow and Tara get home? They should be there soon”

“We’re fine Buffy, and I'm fifteen. I can even take care of myself for a little bit before the adults get home” She huffed. There was the teenager she knew.

“Okay well...do your homework”

“I know!” Her reply was exacerbated, and she could almost see the sarcasm.

“Bye Dawn. I'll call you in the morning. Love you”

“Bye Buffy! Love you too” She said cheerily and then she heard the click. She smiled to herself, placing her cellphone back into her back before looking at Spike who had a smirk on his face a mile wide.

“How am I?” He purred

She elbowed him

“Eavesdropper”

“I don't think it’s really eavesdropping when I can hear the whole conversation pet. I think your sister popped my eardrums. Bloody banshee she is. Not sure how you still have hearing to be honest”

Buffy chuckled

“Yeah that's Dawnie for you. Wouldn't be a complete day without teenage sarcasm, high pitched squealing and door slamming. Sorry about that...”

“Don't need to apologize. Sounds like you two get along fairly well. Trust each other”

She didn't know what she'd do without Dawn, especially after their mom had died. Their dad hadn't even come to say goodbye and she'd had to do everything on her own. The sisters were always close, but their mom's death had brought them even closer together. She didn't fail to notice that the question had more than one meaning, hearing the relief in his voice.

“I told you, you’re not a secret” She affirmed, and he seemed to relax at that. It was quiet for a moment, save for the radio that had been turned back up a little and the ambient sounds of the car itself.

“What happened...to your parents?” His voice soft

She supposed it wasn't that far out of left field, him asking about them. She knew she'd already made a few comments that night about her parents not being in the picture. She was just so used to everyone she knew already knowing what had happened in the Summer residence. Normally she was withdrawn when it came to giving out information about her personal life too. With everything that had happened, she was a bit weary of opening up for people. But Spike felt familiar somehow.

“Oh, well. My dad, he left. He cheated on mom with his secretary and moved to Spain. I haven't heard from him since” She spoke coldly.

“Wanker” She heard him curse. Unfamiliar with what she was assumed was English slang for something nasty she just continued.

“Mom...she died. Brain aneurysm. She had a tumor in her brain. The doctors were able to fully remove it and gave her a clean bill of health. She came home for a little bit. But they said it was a complication of the surgery. That no one could have prevented it...But I miss her so much” She whimpered, clutching her chest and the locket at her sternum. “I was the one who found her” She breathed and just like that it went back to that day. It was so quiet, and she called and called for her mom but she received no reply. She hadn't thought it weird, maybe her mom just couldn't hear her. She didn't remember much after that. The doctors told her that she had gone into shock.

“Luckily Dawn was in school at the time. It didn't get better for a long time. I'm still grieving” She mumbled sadly, fingering the tiny locket.

“As you should luv. She's your mum. What was she like?” His voice soft and sweet and Buffy beamed.

“She was...amazing. Strong. Sassy, confident. She ran a big art galley here in town. She didn't even act like a mom...except when she did” She stopped for a moment and then started laughing.

“One time she threatened Riley because I came home with a bruise on my arm. She thought he was beating me. We uh...we just got a little rough. That was an awkward conversation”

The look that flashed across his face sent waves of desire to her core. A knowing smile. She guessed he had a kinky side after all. That worked in her favor.

“She sounds brilliant luv. Wish I could have met her”

“Me too” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

_Oh my. Do I really like him that much? Trust him that much that I would have brought him home for the mom test? Would he have even passed? I’d like to think so. I know he looks like a bad boy on the outside but inside he’s such a sweetie. Mom would have been able to see that._

She caught his grin in her peripheral vision.

“Wait...you said your mum ran an art gallery.... here? It didn't happen to be called Modern Antiquity would it?”

Her jaw fell. He knew about it!?

“Yeah...that's it. I think it's still around, although mom's business partner owns it all now of course”

“Your mother was Joyce!?” He exclaimed, hands coming off the wheel. She let out an eep! And he threw them back down immediately, losing control of the car only momentarily.

“You knew my mom? How did you know my mom? How did you know about the gallery? I thought that was only for old, rich, snobby people that liked art”

He gave her an embarrassed look.

“Well...I've been told I'm old at heart”

Was it possible for eyes to bug out of her head?

“Wait...how old are you? Not that its matters”

It was apparently the perfect time to light up a smoke. He rolled down, yes actually cranked the windows down and let his arm dangle out the window after he had lit it up.

“28”

Twenty-eight. Seven years older than her. It really wasn't that big of a difference. Granted it was almost a decade but really did age mean anything? She had dated and slept with a few guys now, all her age or slightly older and all of them had acted like children. It was no wonder Spike was so mature.

“So you went to mom's gallery? Did you ever talk to her?”

“Well yeah. Probably couldn't tell before but I happen to love art. Your mum was always sellin some good pieces”

She started to tear up. The softness of his voice, it was clear that he respected her. They would have gotten along so well. Her mom would have loved him, if she hadn't already. She could have brought him home for family dinners and movies and everything would have been good.

“Buffy, sweet. What's the matter?” She heard his concerned voice. When she looked over, he was gripping the steering wheel tightly, fingers hovering over his turn signal. He looked ready to pull over.

“I'm okay” She said wiping her eyes “I'm okay” God why was she crying again. “I just wish she was still here. I would have loved for you to be around her. She would have liked you”

His expression was soft, content and emotional. Did he feel the same connection she did?

“Ta pet, means a lot to me. I wager not many mum's would feel the same”

Did that mean there were a lot of moms in his past? She guessed a hot guy with such a sweet personality had lots of girlfriends. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. She knew exactly what he was, he'd never been anything but honest about that. But she wondered if his profession ever crossed over into his personal life. Or did he have a personal ethic about it? Did any of this change the way she saw him? Felt about him?

She'd only known him for what...less than an hour? He didn't really seem like the promiscuous type, but she didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to loyal men.

“What’s your mom like?” She asked instead.

There was another long pause as he took a drag from his cigarette and she got that feeling of dread welling up inside her.

“Dead” He finally spoke, his voice flat and monotone

“Oh god. I'm so sorry”

“Don't be luv. She was sick too. Tuberculosis”

“That's awful. She was really suffering wasn't she. I've read about that before. I thought it was cured here?”

“Considering the population, its considered rare and less people die from it, but my mum was getting on in her years and she was always weak and prone to illness. Doesn't help that London is bloody wet all the time either, certainly didn't help the cough. She suffered a fair bit. There were medications but otherwise couldn't do a bloody thing”

“I know how you feel” She replied morosely.

“Was relieved when she finally passed. Not that I wanted her dead, just couldn't bear to see her in so much pain. Always had a soft spot like that. Such a mum's boy I was”

She cracked a smile at that.

“But like you” He continued, “I was on my own to take care of everything. Funeral arrangements, settlements, bills, the whole bloody cake”

“And your dad?” She asked

Another drag of his cigarette.

“Gone. Dunno where. Left when I was a tyke. Good fuckin riddance” He snarled, chucking the cigarette out of the window but making no motion to roll it up, despite the cold.

Buffy sat in silence for a moment thinking upon this. How weird is it that we have such similar family situations? _I haven't heard anything about a sibling but otherwise what a coincidence. Both with moms who died because of illness and dad's that left us. What does this even mean? Does it mean anything? Is this fate? Destiny?_

“Birds of a bloody feather we are, aren't we pet?” He said with a bitter chuckle.

 _No kidding_ She thought to herself.

“How old were you?” She prodded.

“Bit older than you at the time of it all. Summat around 23 I think. Still lived in London then”

_So he's only been in the States for a few years._

“I was wondering about that. What made you move from London to here?”

“What drives all of us?” He asked in response

“Uh...money?” She questioned, taken aback by the philosophical nature of the question.

“Love” He answered, and she couldn't help but notice the dull look in his eye.

_Guess that solves my earlier question about who hurt him. Must have been a lover. Enough to make him leave his home_

“Pick this conversation up later pet? We're here” Grinning and putting the car into park in the driveway of a very very nice-looking house.

She didn't know why she thought that he (the stripper) was going to be living in a stereotypical run-down ratty motel outside of town that cost $50 a night with broken windows, that smelled like piss and had a plethora of unidentifiable stains. She really needed to stop watching shitty drama movies and television and pick up a book or two. She was more than pleasantly surprised at the aesthetic of the house, cleaned up and taken care of, markers of places where flowers might be grown in the spring and summer and plenty of lighting.

“You live here?”

He seemed rather pleased at her shock.

“Yeah. Home sweet home” He said with a smile, striding up to the door and unlocking it. He held the door open for her and she stepped in tentatively looking around at the entrance way. The first thing she noticed was the smell. It was different...spicy and earthy, exotic, and she took a deep lungful of it. The second thing she noticed was how clean everything looked. Nothing looked out of place. She could see down a hallway into what she assumed was a kitchen and there was a sunroom to her left. She could tell even from here that the rooms were filled with various paintings and other art pieces.

She wandered into the next room, feeling like she was in a daze. He flicked some lights on, taking notice of the sparse but modern looking furniture, the muted gray and blue color scheme he had going, the rich hardwood floors and the different pieces of art that accented it. It was...sophisticated. Nothing like she would have predicted. She honestly expected that with his punk look with the leather and piercings that he was going to bring her home into some kind of vampire, black and red dungeon. And while she wasn't completely unconvinced that he didn't have a dungeon somewhere in this large house (a fun one she hoped), his house seemed well...normal.

While she was transing through the room, she was vaguely aware that he was following close behind her, could hear the padding of bare feet against the wood. He had taken his shoes off

“Oh!” She stopped and turned around suddenly reached down to take off her flats and heard him mirthfully chuckling behind her.

“Not that I'm not enjoying this, rather like that your taking things off as soon as you get in my home, right in front of the windows. Makes a bloke think he's wanted that badly” He gestured with a head tilt to the drawn back curtains.

She righted herself and blushed, giving him a sheepish look.

“I uh....your shoes. They're gone. I heard it. So I took mine off too” She rambled, holding up the flats.

“Right here?” Eyebrow quirking

“I got distracted” She mumbled dejectedly. “Your house is so lovely” She turned around to face the room again. “It’s funny. I actually recognize some of the paintings and pieces in here from when mom had them stashed in our house. She had a habit of ordering too much stuff and then not having a place to put it...so it went in my room”

“I think I would have paid good dosh to see that” He said with a grin. He cocked his head

“How long has it been since you've eaten luv. How much did you have to drink?”

“Umm” Her stomach rumbled “It’s been a while. Since before we got to Mystery. My friends....they were supposed to make me something but then I overslept and we didn't have time. And I think I had like...five shots?” She said counting on her fingers “They kept shoving them at me, birthday girl and all, but I swear I can hold my liquor! I'm pretty much sober”

“Not saying you can't. Aughta get summat in your stomach though. See, I've got plans for you. Don't want you passing on me” He growled in a low gravelly voice and flourishing a wicked smile “Not my style luv. Prefer my girl to be fully aware whose she's with. Whose fingers and tongue and cock are buried in... any number of places. Whose name she's screaming”

Her breath hitched.

He was behind her, grabbed her tight around the waist and pulled her into him and there was no mistaking the feeling of that solid hardness pressed against her ass.

“And you will be screaming” He rumbled into her ear, nibbling at the fleshy lobe. She whimpered helplessly, grinding back against him wantonly. Warmth bubbled through her and that liquid heat rushed between her thighs. How did he take her from zero to sixty in just a few seconds? She didn't think it was possible to get turned on so fast, to get as wet as she was right now. She was embarrassingly wet.

“Spike” She moaned for him, finding it hard to stand straight when his left hand slid down the slide of her waist, her hip, her thigh, inching its way medial until he stopped, his hand impossibly wide over the entirety of her groin. Big hands, long slender fingers, big feet...definitely a big boy all over. A primal grunt welled from her throat, something she didn't think she was capable of making. She guessed he was just as surprised because his breath was ragged, a growl deep in his throat in response.

“Fuck” He groaned against her, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her around so now her breasts were smashed against his muscled chest, erection digging into her stomach and again his lips are on hers.

Furious and demanding he kissed her. Stole away her breath and swallowed her whole. He gripped the back of her head and she was sure she was going to lose the use of her legs. He already found a solution for that though, gripping her hips and pulling her up. Her body reacted instinctively, and she jumped to wrap her legs around his waist and shaky arms around his neck. He rumbled appreciatively under her bucking up against her and walking her into the kitchen, setting her down on the edge of the island and stepping into the triangle of her legs.

Oh how did she love this, being on an equal level with him, wrapped up and crushed to that hard muscled chest and still being kissed like he wanted to completely devour her. Teeth and tongues clashed, hot and slick and heavy he waged another war with her and fuck she was losing fast. That silver ball flicking against her tongue and the inside of her cheek. She knotted fingers at the nape of his neck, scratching at his skin, played with the soft platinum locks there and he made this sound against her. It sounded like...purring? Like a cat would if you scratched him behind the ears. She fell in love with that sound, wanted to hear it over and over. So in the midst of their kissing she kneaded the base of his skull with her fingers, threaded them through his hair and dug them into his scalp, rubbing soft circles. The purrs turned into soft moans and grunts and he wrapped around her tighter, arms like bands of steel.

She was never going to get over the contradiction of this man. All tough and hard on the outside with the bad boy swagger, the smoking, the piercings but oh how sweet and soft on the inside, melting like warmed cream. Speaking of warm cream...She moaned against him as he pressed into her, his tight jean covered cock grinding against her in a maddeningly slow rhythm. It had her gushing beneath him, impossibly wet. Even though she never wanted to break away from him, she felt the harsh burn of her lungs reminding her that she still needed to breath, and so did he. She pulled away reluctantly, the soft sound of his lips parting from hers and his shaky breath wanting her to dive right back in for more. Was it possible to be in love with someone you just met?

She knew she shouldn't jump straight to the l word. Fuck she had only just met the man, But if there was ever such a thing as love at first sight...this would be it. She'd never felt this way before. Not about anyone. She didn't think she would after what had happened with Riley and the others. They'd all proved that she wasn't worth it. It hadn't been the first time she'd caught a guy cheating. She gazed at him, at the steel blue gray eyes, half lidded and unblinking and reminded herself that he was different. She didn't quite know how, but deep down she was somehow sure that Spike wouldn't be like that. He wasn't like the other boys she dated, he was more than that, wasn't a boy at all. He was a man. Responsible, sophisticated, affectionate, chivalrous but with that touch of danger, that dark rebellious nature and underlying kinkiness. She stared at his lips, full and pink and swollen from their furious make out session and she pressed another chaste kiss to them, touched by the satisfied groan that passed through them as she came back for more.

“You’re a good kisser” She complimented awkwardly, regretting the embarrassing words as soon as they left her mouth. But if anything, they only seemed to satisfy him more as he pressed his lips to hers.

“Ta luv, but you've given me a run for my money. Bleeding amazing. So sweet you are”

She grinned dopily at him,

“You look like a right treat like this. All debauched in my kitchen in the wee hours of the night. Hard for a man to resist”

“Then don't” Her voice a breathy whisper, pleading him for more. “Want you”

His shuddering breath only serving to turn her even more.

“Want you too” He murmured smoothing his hands along her cloth covered arms. She hadn't even taken her jacket off yet.

“Gotta get something in you first though” But he didn't seem all that compelled to move away.

“I can think of something” She whispered seductively, nuzzling her nose into the curve of his neck, flicking a pointed tongue at the underside of his throat, flexing her hips so her groin met his.

She wasn't sure where this sexual prowess of a women had come from, but she liked her. Liked the reaction she was able to coax from the man in front of her.

“Christ” He heard him whisper, the tendons in his neck cording and muscles locking up. She was sure he was going to say fuck it and have his way with her right there. Not that she would have minded. But he pulled away, eyes dark sapphires, swallowed by the blackness of his pupils. His intense reactions were such a boost to her fragile ego.

“Soon pet. Promise” He mumbled before letting go of her completely and turning around to start rummaging through his fridge. He had some serious will power that was for sure. And it was nice to look at him like this too, from behind. Eyes raking over his narrow-sculpted shoulders, deltoids, triceps. The slimness of his waist and hips and that well-muscled ass of his.

She couldn't see much from here, but he plucked around for a few things, setting them on the island beside her.

“Don't have much in the way of carbs. I don't eat a whole lot of them. Give you what I have though, need the energy”

“Ahh so that's your secret then huh?” She teased, not bothering to hide the ogling of his muscles as he made her a plate comprised of sweet melon slices, a few strawberries, a scoop of some kind of funny looking red grain and a couple shrimps.

“Part of it” He replied closing the fridge. “Eat light. No meat. No dairy, no sweets and lots of exercise”

“No sweets? Not even chocolate?” She whined with a huge frown. Chocolate was her favorite. What if he wouldn't let her have it?

“I do occasionally indulge in a toffee or two, when I get the craving, but for the most part I've never really liked sweets anyways”

 _How can you live and not like sweets?_ She wanted to ask him.

“And your what...a vegetarian?”

“Pescatarian. Still eat seafood. Other meats are just too heavy. Make me feel bogged down and heavy. I can't dance if I feel like that. But...I do have a fondness for hot wings”

She giggled “So once in a while?”   
“Yeah” He said with a grin.

“Sounds...strict”

“It is, but I like it. Keeps my willpower focused”

They lapsed into silence as she chewed on the sweet fruit, casually pushing the fork he set out for her around the plate, playing with the fluffy red and white grains.

“What is this stuff?”

“Quinoa. Eat” He pressed

“Bossy” She mumbled under her breath and rolling her eyes picking up another piece of fruit but bringing a forkful of the stuff to her mouth. She chewed in silence. She didn't hate it; it was pretty good actually. Earthy and kind of sweet.

He chuckled at her but was otherwise silent, not even bothering to refute her. They ate in comfortable silence, both picking at the plate. Somehow, he managed to even make eating strawberries seductive, the way he wrapped his lips around the plump fruit and sucking at it, licking his lips between juicy bites. It sent dark thoughts of what else he could be sucking on like that, driving her wild. Fuck she bet he was good at it too, not that she really had much to compare to. She hadn't exactly gotten the special treatment when it came to that.

Like usual, he seemed to notice the far off look in her eye and once the plate was empty he set it away in the sink and then was right back between her legs, running cool fingers up tops of her thighs.

“Better?” His voice seductive, crawling into her mind, her heart, her soul, her pussy. She was having trouble finding words and nodded in response.

“Good. Want to go upstairs?” He questioned huskily.

“Yes” She whispered needily, not having any trouble when it came to telling him how badly she wanted him.

“Grab on then sweet. I'll carry you up”

She obeyed, wrapping heavy limbs around his narrow neck and hips. She pressed herself into those toned pecs, listening to the steady thumping of his heartbeat. Was this what it was like? Being wrapped up and cared for by a lover? She nuzzled him and didn't fail to notice the soft sigh that his escaped his lips. When she was securely around him, he walked her through the other side of the kitchen, through a different room than the one they came in through and she caught a glimpse of more connecting rooms. The one she could see clearly was complete with more dark hardwood floor but lacked furniture and artwork. Instead it was taken up by a few exercise machines, weights and a pole in the center of the room.

_Oh wow. He really takes this seriously. This isn't some last minute decision or back up black to a failed career or whatever. This is actually something he does for a living. Something he enjoys._

Those gnawing feelings came back to her. If he did this professionally because he liked to show off for men and women, how many did he take home? Clearly, he had enough room to entertain someone, or several someone’s, maybe even at the same time. How many partners had he brought back home with him? Was she just the flavor of the week? Anxiety and panic started to roar their way through her head Whispers of nasty nothings bubbled up below the surface. She could almost hear the music and thumping of the bass from the party that night when she walked behind closed doors and found her boyfriend underneath some dark haired goth chick, back pale as snow, covered in intricate tattoos, buried balls deep with her tiny blood red mouth clasped around the side of his neck.

She clung tighter to him, willing those thoughts to go away. This couldn't happen right now. No panic attacks, no anxiety about former lovers and inadequacy. She didn't want to be that girl, sobbing about her ex, blabbering crazy talk. She breathed in deep a few times and he must have noticed because he was rubbing soothing circles into her skin, whispering sweet nothings that she couldn't make out but found comforting anyways.

He took her up a tightly wrapped spiral iron staircase, something she hadn't seen in a house before but somehow it fit in well with the rest of the architecture, and it led into a hallway on the top floor of the house. The hallway was long and stretched across the width of the house and she could see there were quite a few closed doors that lined the halls in both directions. Down the left side of the hallway it opened up into a solarium style room, with pretty glass ceilings and thick shelves that lined the perimeter of the room.

“What is that?” Turning her head and gesturing towards that room.

“Library” He said placing little kisses against her lips

“Library” She repeated under her breath in between said kisses.

So that's what all those shelves lining the wall were. She was starting to put it all together. The big empty house, the art, the library, it all seemed so...

“Are you like...rich or something? Normal people don't have these kinds of things in their homes”

He scoffed

“Does It matter?” His voice suddenly on edge and oh...that was insecurity in his voice.

_Buffy you dummy. Say something! He's going to think you just in this for his money or something. Which....I guess he has? He didn't deny it_

“Of course, not” She assured. “It has absolutely nothing to do that. I was just curious. I've only seen people have things like this in their house on TV or in movies and their usually well...rich, snobby British people”

He stopped walking, only a few feet away from a door at the end of the hallway on the right.

“Your totally not snobby though” She added quickly “Your charming and wonderful and I bet your like a genius or something and oh god I'm rambling again. You can just set me down, I'll let myself out”

But to her surprise she found him grinning, a boyish chuckle following.

“Your cute when your flustered” He murmured, kissing her forehead and resuming his walk, managing to open the door in front of him.

It was a massive room, just like most of the others. He had some furniture, but it was as sparsely furnished as the rooms downstairs. The walls were tastefully decorated with more art. The focus point of the room was the huge California king that took up a large part of the room.

He hadn't bothered to turn on any lights, there was enough moonlight streaming in from the large windows that it was sufficiency bathed in soft light. She could only assume that the dark colored looking walls were the same gray or something slightly darker than downstairs. From what she could tell, the sheets were to her surprise, not black, but a soft cream color and she bet the thread count was off the charts.

He walked her in and gently set her down on the edge of the bed, helping her to pull off her jacket which he folded and set off to the side.

He took a few minutes to light a few votive candles placed around the room, their pale light flickering in the dark. Okay that seemed more like him.

“What. Not going to ravish me? Toss me to the bed like an animal?” She taunted

She was so perplexed by him. He came on so strongly with his words and the intensity of his passionate kisses. Hell, he'd even gotten her off in an alleyway less than an hour ago and shown her this darker side of him downstairs but right now he was acting like the perfect gentlemen. Mercurial much?

“Oh pet” He said with a sigh that made her shiver “Plan on ravishing you within an inch of your pretty little life. Gonna give you so many little deaths you'll not be able to walk when I'm through with you” He said grinning wickedly

That sent another intense wave of desire rippling through her, the way he looked at her with those liquid ocean eyes, dark and stormy like the sea. They touched something deep within her.

“Take off your shirt” She commanded, not thinking so much anymore. It was like some kind of switch had flicked on. She didn't want to be cute anymore. She wanted to do what she came back here with him for, to indulge in the body of this man. Not that she didn't like his mind, she wanted to explore more of that too. What he liked and disliked and what made him tick. But it had been so long since she'd been promised something so delicious. She had gotten a taste of it in the alleyway and downstairs and she needed more.

He grinned at her with a devilish smile, curling his tongue behind his teeth and did as she asked. He pulled it over his head slowly, making a show of it. He didn't rip it off his body like he'd done last time, which was super-hot, but this was just so sensual. The way that he never broke eye contact with her except when it was going over his head.

Those silver rings through his eyebrow and nipples caught and glimmered in the moonlight. The flesh of those dusky nipples already hard and pointed and his skin had burst into goose flesh. She didn't realize how long she'd been staring when she heard his voice again.

“Can touch if you want” He encouraged

He stepped into her and her hands were on him in an instant. They roamed over his corded arms, little fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders his biceps. She intertwined her hands with his as she bent forward and licked a trail up his abs. He groaned above her as she ran her tongue through the hard defined lines of those abdominals, over the bulges of each individual muscle. She licked everywhere she could reach and alternated between the use of her tongue and teeth, nibbling bits of flesh as she went. She found it hard though to get a grip on him.

She pulled away, already getting breathless

“You don't have an ounce of fat on you, do you?”

He smirked. “No ducks, I don't”

She pouted

“Problem with that?” He asked

“There's no fat to bite so I don't hurt you”

“Is that all?” He chuckled darkly “Bite all you want pet. Make it hurt all you want. I rather fancy it”

Her breath stolen from her. She knew it.

“So...you are super kinky then” The question slipping from her lips without thought.

“One way of putting it yeah” He curled his tongue again “Were you thinking about this before?”

She blushed

“Maybe a little.... good thoughts I promise” She paused, saved for setting her hands in motion again. “Really pleasant thoughts” She whispered trailing off. Sliding warm hands up the front of him, resting them on his pectorals. His hands dropped away, resting gently on her shoulders as she continued to kiss his milky skin. She sat up straight, shifting to sit on folded legs, giving her better access to him. Kissing her way up his strong shoulders across his prominent clavicle, up the side of his neck where he let out a breathy moan every time she placed a hot kiss there. So she did it again and again until he was panting against her.

Spurred by his reactions she wrapped an arm around his neck to steady herself and kissed up and down one side of his neck, licking the shell of his ear in her ascent and received a whimper in response.

“Sensitive here aren't you” She whispered huskily

“Oh god yes” He moaned in reply as she kissed him there again. Kissing her way back down, lips lingering over the throbbing of his pulse, scraping her teeth against it. He gripped her tighter and pressed her mouth against him. She grinned against him, pleased by his needy reactions and latched onto him, sucking skin beneath her teeth and biting him lightly.

“Harder” He moaned to her. Shivers shot down to her clit at the low begging of his voice and she obeyed. Clamping down on him she dug her teeth into pale flesh until he was gasping under her, pulling her tight against him, the hardness of him trapped between them.

She wasn't sure if she was just that strong or if she was caught up in the moment but then she heard him making a desperate keening, his body spasming under her and then she tasted blood. Thick and coppery she tasted him on her lips and she pulled away instantly surveying the damage. Sure enough, she saw her teeth marks in his neck, already bruising around the wound, which was the clear imprint of her teeth, the bloody puncture marks red and angry.

He was still panting heavily, eyes closed and she couldn't help but he drawn back to it, to him, to his reaction. She laved the wound with her tongue, dipping into the wound, collecting more of his blood. She'd never been turned on by this before, but she was certainly finding it more than satisfying with the noises he was making.

He surged forward, not giving her anymore time, and pushed her down roughly by the shoulders, pinning her to the bed. He had a predatory look in his eye, like he was about to turn around and eat her alive and that look had her whimpering and more wetness flooding between her thighs .He grabbed her around the waist, hiking her to the middle of the bed and kneeled between her legs.

“I...I wasn't done” She whispered, eyes fixed to the smear of blood still left on his neck.

“Later” He growled “Need to see you”

All she could hear was the pounding of blood in her ears and the heavy panting between the two. His fingers wisped over the naked flesh of her shoulders and he was tugging her top over her head now, unhurried as he revealed more and more skin, pleasantly rumbling when her top was removed, baring her breasts.

“Naughty little thing. Not wearing a bra” He teased but stared at her with this awed expression.

“There too small. I don't really need one” She mumbled in embarrassment. Moving to cover herself. She had always been self-conscious about this. She knew there wasn't anything particularly wrong with the way she was, she heard the way her friends and even her mom complained about having back pains that came with them. She just figured that guys preferred them better, having something to hold onto. Riley had never said anything about wishing they were bigger, but she couldn't help but think it when he didn't get all blown away horny guy whenever her shirt came off. She certainly wasn't flat, but she wasn't offering a good chance for a titty fucking, that was for sure.

He captured her hands mid movement and tugged them above her head. There was Mr. Mercurial again, switching moods again from pure lust to comforting understanding.

“Bollocks. Your bloody perfect”

Fingertips ghosted down her shoulders, over every one of her ribs and inward to her sternum and finally over hardened little nipples.

“But they're...” She started

His head dipped down to her, circling a hardened bud with the tip of his tongue before sucking it in to his hot mouth, playing first with her before stuffing the rest of her milky flesh in his mouth. He sucked and rolled flesh between tongue and teeth, nibbling and scraping with his teeth. Fuck the way he used his tongue. He popped her out of his mouth again, kissing and licking and sucking her little jewels making obscene noises as he did so.

“Anything more than a mouthful is a bloody waste” He said cupping them softly, brushing his thumbs in slow circles against her hardened buds, kneading the rest of her flesh with the heels of his hands.

“Pretty little tits” He murmured reverently “So bleeding soft you are” He bent to circle the tip of one, swirling his tongue in hypnotic patters as she arched her back to meet his mouth, pressing into him.

“Feel good sweet?” She asked as he moved from one to another

She nodded weakly

“I bet. Poor little dears. Must have gotten all roughed up being rubbed raw by your top. No worries. I'll kiss em all better” Placing feather light kisses against them that had her squirming against him, wanting more.

“Spike” She whimpered as his hot mouth closed over one, sucking lightly, drawing it in while the other was plucked at with deft fingers. All the while he was massaging the muscle underneath, playing with the globe of flesh itself. She'd never had a guy give her a breast massage before, they normally went straight for her nipples, sucking at them like a pup at a teat. A desperate sucking that was more for them then it was for her. Maybe that was why she never really liked it. But the way that Spike was tenderly working his way around them, lavishing every bit of skin with attention as well as giving her sternum, her ribs and her sides a gentle rub down as well, had he melting like putty in his capable hands. Was it possible for a man to enjoy this without getting anything in return? Not that she wouldn't give as good as she got...she would try anyways. But compared to everyone else he seemed so into it. He kissed his way up her torso, hands still playing with her breasts and lips roaming over the dip of her sternum and pausing over her pounding heart.

He placed a single lingering kiss there and she was swore he was about to say something when he moved on. She briefly wondered what that was about, but all thought evaporated when he reached her neck and suckled on the junction between her shoulder and neck. She writhed beneath him.

“Spike” She gasped

“Like that do you?”

“Yes” Her voice breathy. “More” She whimpered, raising her hips. She wanted to feel that talented tongue of his lower, where all the invisible lines of pleasurable fire connected.

“All in good time luv. All in good time. Promise. Gonna make this so good for you. Take such good care of you” He whispered with such care that it had her brain stunned for a moment. She wasn't used to this, this focused attention on her. She tried to protest but his lips overtook hers in a passionate kiss, like he was pouring his intentions out through his lips, whispering every dirty thing he was going to do to her without the need for words. She clutched onto him, grabbing the back of his neck and forced her own tongue into his.

He grunted in response to her boldness, grinding his denim covered cock against her thigh. And holy hell did she want that too. Wanted to feel that heavy length against her slick folds, sliding against her, pressing into her, filling her. God it had been a while. Really it had only been a few weeks, almost a month. After Riley she had resorted to using a silicon substitute, which was nice, it got the job done, but it didn't have selection of sound clips from a voice she was becoming rapidly addicted to or the warmth of another body that she craved. And she could feel the heat rolling off him, mashed against her thigh.

He pulled away from her lips, panting for breath, pupils so blown that his pretty blue gray eyes seemed black. That stark contrast between the darks of his eyes and the light of his hair had her gasping. She brushed a finger against his neck and the grooves of the mark she had given him.

He snarled in response, an animal sound, terrifying and sexy. He crawled backwards, sliding full lips down her naked flesh and latching onto her nipples again, still stiff and swollen from before.

“Think I'll make you come like this” His voice low, dangerous, confident. It drew out a choking sound from her throat. Was that even possible? It had certainly never happened to her before. Not like anyone was willing to go long enough to try it...

“Think I can?” He questioned

“I...I don't know. It’s never happened before” She shied away nervously.

“Got to now” She heard him whisper.

There was certainly pressure building down between her thighs. She hadn't really been aware of how close she already was, but she'd been on edge, tense for him since the alleyway. A flux of being turned on and off that was making her body desperate for another release. Could she really get off from just his voice and tits alone? He seemed to be making it mission to do so. He alternated between sucking hard on one, pinching, hot open mouth kisses and little butterfly pecks that had her arcing her hips up for him and begging for more. All the while he was whispering against her when he could.

“Pretty little things. Soft and firm and warm. Sun kissed goddess is what you are. Makes these pretty little jewels of yours stand out more” He licked, sucked, swirled, tweaked and pulled at her, dragging that silver ball across over sensitized flesh, running it around the circle of her areola. It didn't take long for her to be launched over the edge. She cried her release, feeling her clit pulse and twitch below her, begging for attention. His fingers stopped and pulled away from her, drawing back to just take in and enjoy how her body trembled from an orgasm that came from neither clit not cunt, something completely new.

“What a gorgeous woman you are” He murmured brushing fingertips across the protrusion of one hip bone. “Your body is so responsive. Gonna be so good playing with you. Making you writhe under me” He let out a shuddering breath “Christ I can't wait to be inside you”

She whimpered a response, wordless agreeing with him.

He leaned down to the valley of her breasts, kissing her there over her thudding heart, then the hollow of her throat and right back to her lips. His kisses were sweet, chaste little sips over as she finished coming down, a complete 180 from the ravenous ones only a few moments ago. Her body was so confused. It wanted so much more, demanded more attention.

“That was...how did you?” She started to question between pants.

“Barely did anything sweet. That was all you. Your body knows what it wants. And while it’s certainly not common, I wasn't bluffing when I said your extremely reactive. Makes you extra special. A dream” He cupped her jaw sweetly. “Those tossers didn't understand the treasure they had before them”

A treasure huh? She didn't feel like a treasure. Despite the high she was coming down from she felt pretty low. These self-loathing thoughts kept coming back to her. She thought maybe everything he said was just sweet talk. Blathering’s of nothingness that would make her feel good about herself enough to make her pliant, unresistant to his advances. After all, Riley had done the same thing as well as Parker and the others. They doled out compliments and pretty words to bend her to their will. She realized though that she had major issues when it came to trust, especially with men. Xander being an exception because he had been her friend for so long but she'd never wanted to date him, always seeing him as a brother and he never left her side. It sounded so cliche to blame it all on her dad. Look at me, just another SoCo girl who had daddy issues right? But she supposed that was where it started. Daddy left me, therefore all guys will too, right?

She'd let that trust take advantage of her, never fully committing herself to a real relationship, because she was afraid of getting hurt, afraid of them leaving her. And they did, they all left her, just like Daddy. And she would never really know if it was because they were just jerks or because they had known deep down that she couldn't give them all of her. And maybe that was why her so called sex life had been nothing special. She figured it had to have been her, that she was cock blocking herself from orgasms because she was so in her own head she couldn't focus on the pleasure. She figured it was another reason why they all left. Men liked to feel validated right? That they're all gods at sex and eating pussy and making their girlfriends cum. But what happens when their girlfriends can't because she's too wrapped up in her insecurities to be able to relax enough to cum? Well...it takes forever and sometimes doesn't happen at all. So then they get frustrated that they're not the superior alpha male in bringing pleasure and they get all insecure about their masculinity and go find some whore that orgasms with a beckoning touch. And sexually frustrated, insecure girls like her get left behind wondering what the hell was wrong with them.

She didn't know Spike well enough to lump him in with the other guys. He seemed genuine, completely unlike the other guys she had been around. Twice now he had made her cum and both times had been in nontraditional ways, ways she wouldn't have though possible for herself because they weren't direct contact with her clit or through typical intercourse. And although the orgasm that came from the stimulation of her nipples hadn't been an earth shattering experience that made her black out, it was still an orgasm. And not once had he made any notion of tit for tat kind of deal. He seemed pure in his intentions of making her feel good and not expecting anything in return. Did he have that much control?

“Okay there pet?” He asked, that rich baritone voice snapping her from her thoughts. Right. She was here now with him. Seeing him brought a smile to her face.

“Yeah I...I just got caught in my head a little” She said with a sad little sigh, sitting up and crossing her arms over herself.

He moved closer to her, drawing her into him. The swagger and devilish leer all but gone, his rough accent seeming to become a softer version.

“Anything I can do?”

She snuggled into him, breathing deep of the smell of him. How comforting it was to curl up with him.

“No. You've done more than enough. I'm sorry. I've got all these thoughts and issues that I'm holding onto. I'm sorry”

“Don't be luv. We've all got our pasts that carry forward into the present, snagging holes in us that keep reopening, no matter how many times we try and close them up. Don't be ashamed of it. You just turn it around and make it your own. Make it better and make it work for you. That way all the slags and gents that caused your suffering see that your better than them. Better off without them”

She got the sense that by the end of his little speech that it was more than just a pep talk for her.

_So maybe we're a lot more alike than I thought._

“Did someone hurt you too?” She asked hesitantly

“Yeah” He drawled “Buggered me up something good for a long while. Thought we were forever she and I. She was my whole bloody world” He sighed solemnly “Until she wasn't...But I don't want to talk about my prior luv. Don't want to dampen this little fire we got going. Unless...I already have?” That hesitancy back in his voice. Despite the bad boy act, the man underneath seemed to be just as vulnerable when it came to putting himself out there.

_Maybe that's why he's a stripper. To get himself out of his comfort zone, to make him exploit his own vulnerability, making himself a stronger person. It’s certainly more romantic and then just wanting the life of the party and girls. It definitely makes me more attracted to him. Not that I wasn't before._

It made her surer, that despite her trepidation involving herself and men, that she wanted to pursue something with him. So for now, she shoved all her insecurities down and resigned to be like him. Put herself out there, let passion and romance take the reins for tonight and see what came of it.

“Not at all” She answered with a sultry smile. “You have no idea how badly I want to see those stage shorts of yours again...and what’s underneath” She added

And again, like a switch, he snapped from his morose mood and looked at her with an impish grin that accentuated those cut from glass cheekbones of his.

“Lucky for you luv, I'm still wearing em. Wearing knickers isn't usually my style, but you did mention you liked them. And I'm not one to refuse a lady. Do anything for my girl I will”

She blushed and she wasn't sure if it was because he just put it out that he had really come down from the stage with the intention of pleasing her or because he just admitted he normally didn't wear anything under those tight jeans of his.

She uncrossed her arms, his gaze immediately falling to her breasts, lips curling in a devious smile as his eyes roamed over what she could only imagine as thoroughly swollen nipples and then he was on her again. Pressing gently against her chest so she was lying on her back.

“Thought it was my turn. What with the needing you and all” She pouted

“I don't play a tit for tat game luv” His dexterous fingers popping the button to her jeans, pulling her zipper down slowly.

“Not gonna deny those little hands running over my tight, hot body. But understand this” He paused and cupped her through crotch of her jeans.

“This is where I want to be. Buried with tongue or finger or cock. I intend to take my fill of you beautiful girl”

He breath hitched and she could feel the blush in her face spread to her whole body. Was he really talking about doing **_that_** as something enjoyable and not as a return for other sexual favors? That's what it had seemed like for Parker and Riley didn't seem that interested in it at all. He'd done it for her of course, mainly on days that seemed acceptable, like her birthday and Valentines day. But Spike...

“You...want to?” She questioned and he looked utterly shocked and... disgusted? With her?

“Oh come on now” He sighed in frustration “Gonna tell me now that those wankers wouldn't go down on you?”

She was feeling oddly insecure again. Could almost feel the prickling of tears in the back of her eyes.   
“Well...they did. They just didn't seem too enthused about it...not like you do”

“Well sweet, that's because they weren't real men. Real man takes pride in eating his women quim. It’s a soddin art it is. It’s going to be right beautiful to watch you open up like the pretty little flower that you are. Thighs all quivering, body humming for me, lovely little lips all plump and swollen when I'm done with you”

“Bet you taste just as sweet” He murmured seductively, licking his lips.

She quivered already under the intensity of his voice.

He grabbed a hold of her skinny black jeans at the ankles and pulled down, sharply tugging them down and off with her help, leaving her in a pair of burgundy lace panties. He was silent for a good couple of seconds and she watched as he slipped a finger under the waist band of them, playing with the fabric while he stared at her with this wide-eyed look.

“Christ” He sighed “'S like you knew. So pretty against your skin too”

_Good choice Buffy, so glad I went with those and not the cotton ones. Not like I planned for this or anything but yay on me_

He wrapped an arm under her hips, bending her so that her lower half was angled up towards him and without warning descended on her, shoving his nose against her swollen clit, pulling the soaked fabric into his mouth, breathing in deep and sucking it into his mouth. The moan that ripped through his throat had her moaning in return.

“Intoxicating” He shuddered “This drenched for me, are you?” He whispered when he released them, tonging her slit through the soaked lace and then dropping lower to lick the wetness of her thighs, making soft little pants and grunts the entire time. He pulled away after cleaning her up and kissed her again through the lace. She whimpered as he bunched the fabric up, pulling it tight against the hard bud of her clit and used the fabric as friction. She jolted beneath him, the roughness stimulated her in a new way and her eyes flew to his as he lapped at her exposed lips with the flatness of his tongue, that silver ball dragging against over sensitive skin.

“O..h...oh....Spike....please....”She moaned

He pulled away, still playing with the fabric against her clit, working her, eyes never leaving hers.

“Gonna cum sweet? You look so lovely right now” He praised, licking at her again and again while slowing down dragging the fabric against her until it was almost nothing.

“No please” She begged and trying to thrust against him.

“Ah Ah” He tsked “Slow down luv. Just let yourself feel it yeah? It'll come”

“But Spike...” She whined.

“Just let yourself go” He murmured “Look at me. Promise you it'll be worth it. Can feel it building yeah? Nice and slow” He placed a large hand on the flat of her stomach.

“Raise your hips like that...” He coached. God his eyes were gorgeous. She couldn't help staring into them. And she could feel it. With the sensuality of his voice, his piercing gaze and the slowly building pressure it didn't take long. He was right of course when he said it would be worth it, of course he was. It was nothing like the fast and explosive orgasms she was used to, and instead felt like a great swelling of pleasure that bubbled over slowly but with such intensity it had her whimpering, hips bucking up against the flat of his palm while he leaned down over her and kissed exposed sweaty skin, drawing invisible runes in her skin with his fingertips and whispering against her.

“Good girl” He whispered affectionately hands returning to her hips, dragging them down her thighs, pulling the lace with him.

She mewed when the bunched lace, still pressed in a delicious way against her extremely sensitive clit was tugged away, as he set the piece of fabric aside with her jeans. For another long moment he did absolutely nothing. Just stared at her, basking in her presence with that same reverent look on his face he'd gotten before with this underlying predatory gaze like he was planning his next strategic attack. He likely was. Whatever it was, it turned her on. For once in her life she was completely naked in front of a man and didn't feel the need to cover herself up. She wasn't sure if it was because she was coming down off the high of an intense orgasm or what but she loved the way he made her feel. Like she was worth something. Under his hungry gaze she felt hot and desired

“Buffy. Bloody hell” He murmured, caressing her smooth sun-tanned skin. “Your effulgent”

She sure as hell didn't know what that word meant but with the way he said it, she knew it had to be something good. Effulgent even.

He bent to her then, laying open mouth kisses across her stomach, her ribs, her breasts, her throat. And as he moved up her body and got closer to her now very grabby fingers (she wanted nothing more than to touch him too!) she finally...finally! was able to latch onto those rings of his, slipping little fingers through them and pulling on them lightly, dragging him up her body where she wanted him.

He grunted in pleasure pain gasping her name as she tugged them, experimenting with how much of the pain he was willing to take before telling her to stop.

“Buffy....Buff” He groaned, writhing above her, grinding down on her with his still clothed prick. Every time she tugged, she got harder and more aggressive with it and he never told her to stop. She was sure that with every pull it got more intense for him and it dawned on her that this wasn't some kind of act, that he was one of those people who got off on pain. And that sent a delicious thought of smacking him on that gloriously tight ass of his straight to her brain, sending an electric shock of desire to her clit.

“Harder baby please” He pleaded, pushing them into her hands “Jostle em a bit too yeah?”

She looked him in the eyes as she did so, breathy moans escaping those full bowed lips, still swollen from kisses.

“You really get off on this don't you?”

“Yeah I do sweet” He breathed between gasping moans “Tell me now if it’s a problem. I can't just turn it off”

_He thinks I wouldn't want to be with him, knowing he's like this. I can see why some people may not be able to handle it. Hell, I've only ever heard about it and I'm not sure I totally can...but I really like him and its definitely not a deal breaker. It’s actually pretty hot._

“No. Not at all. I was just surprised is all. I think maybe I knew already. Your just full of surprises, aren't you?”

“Got a few more” He said with a smirk,

“Can't wait” She whispered pulling at the rings

He groaned again, a desperate sound in the back of his throat.

“Soddin vixen you are. You've had your fun. My turn again. Was gonna let you stew for a bit before I set to your lovely cunny. Work you up some more, but you test my patience. I don't think I can wait any longer”

“Yes please. Oh Spike please” She begged, laying herself back on the bed. She needed him again, whatever it was he intended to do.

“Begging already? Gotta say love, it’d be so soon. Not complaining though. Just didn't think you'd beg until I was down there buried between your thighs. Strokes a bloke's ego to hear such pretty words fall from lips like that”

God how he emboldened her

“I want to stroke something else” She retorted huskily. The lusty words tumbling from her mouth. Words she never found herself saying before, but it was like he had put some kind of lust spell on her, this wonderfully sexually deviant magic man.

“Oh god yes” He growled in response.

He trailed a finger down her slit, parting her with the gentlest of touches

“Completely sodden you are. So wet for me aren't you kitten”

“Yes. Oh yes” She moaned

“Want me here?”

“Please” She whimpered

He trailed a finger lightly around her teasing the edges of her labia and the bits of her inner lips that were sticking out.

He teased her, moving away from where she wanted him most, rubbing circles into her thighs, her hips, her knees and calves. Hell, he'd even bent back enough to capture her feet and give those a good long rub too. All of it had her on edge, buzzing, waiting for when he came closer to her aching heat again.

He made his way back there, slowly, tortuously laying the barest of touches over those bits of her engorged flesh. It made her hard-little button, still feeling overstimulated from the way he'd already worked her, almost unbearably uncomfortable. He never touched it though. He came close a couple of times but always skipped over it, a devious little half smile across his face when she jerked her hips towards him suggestively, pleading for him to touch.

He kept this up for so long that it left her in this floaty state of relaxation, lucid and lolling she laid there and just responded to whenever he touched her, arcing towards him with soft moans and breathy sighs. It didn't feel mean or cruel, in fact she was amazed he'd found a way to put her into such a trance like state of pleasure she felt not anxiety or insecurities about anything.

All the while he was watching her with that expression, awed with the way she responded, a bright shining mirth and satisfaction in his lapis eyes whenever she would writhe towards him.

And then out of nowhere, his thumb trailed down her lips against slippery flesh and made its way straight to her clit, pressing down and rubbing her in quick, furious circles the same time his ring and pinkie finger slipped into her slicked up opening and the reaction was instantaneous. An orgasm exploded through her, more intense than the last in a completely different way, and a scream ripped through her lungs, carrying his name.

He was unrelenting, still furiously working her as she was still responding to the first one, back bowed and he didn't let her come down. She felt a second dovetailing off the first, not as powerful, but still there, prolonging it, keeping her tensed up and jerking against his fingers. Listening to him pant above her.

“Could keep doing this” He rumbled “Keep you cumming like this under me until you've got nothing left”

“Nng. Spike please”

  
“Oh dearie. Didn't I tell you how you'd be screaming my name?” His thumb slowed against her but didn't stop and it kept her from coming completely down.

“Spike” She whimpered desperately, her hips rocking on their own accord to try and gain that fast-paced friction back.

“Your right” He kept talking “As much as I want to see how long it takes for you to collapse from this” He drawled, withdrawing his fingers from her soaked hole, wetness flooding out from her like he'd uncorked his own personal bottle of Buffy, sticky trailings from her to his fingers as he brought them to his lips, coating them first before shoving them in his mouth and sucking on them.

His eyes rolled in the back of his head, an extremely pornographic moan coming from the back of his throat.

“Christ you taste divine” He moaned, obscenely licking his fingers “Don't think I've ever tasted anything so sweet” He cooed, lapping at his fingers. Her mind tunnel visioned and nearly begged him to start lapping straight from the source

“Don't even like sweets” He rambled “Think I could get addicted to them if you were my sweet though” He paused, his tone changing to something lighter.

“Would you pet. Would you be my sweet?”

_Is he asking me to be with him or is this just sex babble? It seemed more genuine then that. Does he actually want me around? I certainly wouldn't mind having him around. I really think I could fall for this guy_

The thought was startling, not just because it came to her while he was about to descend upon her, but because after Riley she didn't think it was possible to feel anything remotely close to affection. Especially so soon. Was she really falling head over heels for a guy she'd just met? After all, relationships and Buffy hadn't been very mixy lately, her heart just jumped in and spouted its opinion before she had time to filter out her reply. But as soon as the words fell from her mouth, she didn't regret them.

“I really would” She found herself whispering, the words feeling good in her mouth, and for once, not bitter.

He stopped what he was doing and regarded her with a stupefied look om his face, dreamy and sweet, his lips forming a half smile.

“Do you mean that Buffy?” Fingers quelling their movements and there was nothing but the pounding of her heart and silence all around them. Her name. He'd used her name. Not pet, not luv, not sweet or any of his pet names, but her honest to god name. She didn't know why but it felt more real, more honest, like it was a big deal. This was serious. He was serious and....so was she. Either the biggest joke of her life was being played on her, conjured up by her friends or some very vindictive powers to be and she was about to play right into their hands.... or....she was finding something she'd been searching for. Someone who truly cared for her, was genuinely interested in her, who wouldn't leave her.

It scared the hell out of her. Because Riley had been all of those things in the beginning. He'd been the perfect boyfriend. He was all the way up to the end, had she not gone to that party to surprise him, she would have gone on living her life, day after day, not knowing that she was being taken advantage of behind her back. And Spike, well he wasn't in a field where he was wearing three-piece suits and ties. He was nearly naked every night, flaunting for men and women of all ages as a choice. But for all the things her brain came up with, ‘Hes going to cheat on you’, ‘he dances on women for extra money’, ‘he'll leave you as soon as he finds a prettier gir’l, they all got shot down. There was something in her gut that told her he was different.

She wouldn't say that she loved him yet, it had only been an hour or two since they'd even met, but she definitely felt something for him. A good something. Something she wanted to see grow.

“I..I mean it. I really do Spike” She said, feeling her face break into a small smile.

There was silence for a few seconds as his eyes flicked back and forth between hers and then she heard it. The faintest whisper, a mere breath.

“William”

She sat up and scooted closer to him, wanting to get close enough to touch him, to feel his warmth absorb into her. As she moved into him, pressed her forehead to his

“What?” She questioned

He did the same, leaning into her and taking a shuddering breath.

“I prefer Spike...but my name, my given name. Its William. William Pratt”

So she'd been right about Spike not being his real name.

She repeated his name under her breathe, testing the weight of it on her tongue. It felt...right. She figured that the name Spike had been forged, probably in the creation of his adult persona from the rebellious nature of his youth and stuck. The name William though, it fit the underlying gentlemen behind the dangerous flashing eyes, leather and eyeliner. It sounded like the name of a young English boy man who loved art and books and the finer things in life. So how did that man become Spike? Why had he started stripping? She had so much to learn about him and the fact that she knew almost nothing about him and was currently laying naked before him and completely sober at that should have scared her. But it didn't. Not at all.

“Well then…William. Yes. I mean it”

She heard him physically shuddered, tilting his back and closing his eyes briefly and when he opened them again, there was no mistaking the slightly glassy look and beginnings of tears in his eyes. It seemed she wasn't the only one who was in awe.

“Bloody hell” He whispered, finally looking her in the eyes again, pressing his forehead to hers again. And she couldn't agree more. And now that they seemed to come to an emotional understanding...she needed to have him touch her again, wanted to touch him too.

“Now please...please touch me” She whined needily

“Oh Buffy. Gonna do more than just that. Gonna take you to the moon and bloody back. You'll be seeing stars for days when I'm through with you”

She thought that with how the moment had passed between them, that he would be gentle and take his time in his descent on her. She was wrong. It instead seemed to drive him to some bestial side of himself. He grabbed her with firm warm hands underneath her breasts and picked her up, pushing her further back on the bed, and propped her head with pillows. He immediately locked both arms around her hips, pressing her down tight in his embrace against the luxurious sheets below her. She hadn't been wrong about them; they were so soft against her naked flesh. But then she was having trouble concentrating, because he started whispering to her, his prose quiet and sensual.

_“Bring me your pain, love._

_Spread it out like fine rugs, silk sashes, warm eggs, cinnamon and cloves in burlap sacks_

_Show me the detail, the intricate embroidery on the collar,_

_tiny shell buttons,_

_the hem stitched the way you were taught_

_pricking just a thread, almost invisible_

_Unclasp it like jewels, the gold still hot from your body. Empty your basket of figs. Spill your wine”_

What? A poem? But her brain shut off again, because he drove that wicked tongue of his straight into her pool of heat, scooping mouthfuls of her like she was sweet cream. She mewled as he ravaged her, enjoying the hell out of the way that talented tongue worked. The steel of his piercing dragging along the edges of her opening, flicking against her inner lips as he sucked them into his mouth until they were plump and swollen. He licked up her slit, lapping at her still pulsing and engorged pussy lips from his earlier administrations, the tip of his tongue always moving closer to her clit but never touching it. She needed to know what the piercing felt like there.

She was shocked that the man barely came up for breath, like he had found some new way to breath anaerobically so that he could stay buried between her thighs without coming up. When he did, he was making obscene slurping noises and groans. Licking his lips, he rumbled to her again.

_“That hard nugget of pain, I would suck it, cradling it on my tongue like the slick seed of a pomegranate”_

She moaned in response to him, low and drawn out. She'd always been a sucker for poetry, liking it very much herself and always imagining a boyfriend of hers sweetly reciting verses for her as a declaration of love.

_“I would lift it tenderly, as a great animal might carry a small one in the private cave of the mouth”_

It was so surreal to her that a mature Englishmen like him, a scholar, a poet, a professional stripper, had become as entranced with her as she him. That someone like him was even interested in her in the first place. And now she was being treated like a queen, eaten out in pleasure rather than obligation and privy to beautiful prose.

He nudged his nose through the top of her folds, inhaling deeply and pressing down on her clit working her into a slow frenzy beneath him. Every time she tried to shift her hips towards him, he would press her back down and grunt in complaint. She tried multiple times, desperate and wanting more friction, and every time he was less and less gentle. The strength of him, knowing that he could easily dominate her physically should have been scary, but once again she was shocked with herself that the idea of it only turned her on more.

He'd flash those steely blue eyes in warning before dropping her gaze back to her pussy and resuming his feast. Because that's what he was, feasting on her. Devouring every drop of her. He came up for breath, removed his honey coated tongue and instead dove for her clit, sucking her engorged little bead between his teeth so harshly, nipping at it a bit that for a second she was gritting in pain. He alternated with long pulling sucks and quick little nips that within no time she was trembling against him, blown back by the sudden intense orgasm.

“S' it baby. Let go. Want all your sweet cream” He accentuated by lapping her up, nothing wasted. “All mine this is”

“Oh yes. All yours” She nodded, desperate to move her hips but he still had her pressed down tight.

He continued to lick her, every little movement even more intense, not realizing that with every nip he made against her sensitive bud she moaned a little bit louder and whined when he stopped.

“You like that huh?” She heard him ask softly, head fuzzy with pleasure.

“I like all of it....your gonna have to be a bit more specific”

He groaned and took her clit gently against his tongue, just like his poem, rolling her slowly, building up pressure quickly before taking it between his teeth and biting softly.

She cried out, trying to move into him, let him take more from her but he just returned her to the comfort of that hot tongue of his.

“That” He grunted

“Mmm yeah. So good” She moaned “Does that make me weird?”

“It makes you bloody hot. Certainly gets me hotter for you. The things I can show you” His seductive whispers full of naughty promises and it made her shudder.

“Oh god yes”

“Later you naughty little thing” He growled. She was about to retort but then he was back at her hole, lapping up her recent spending's.

“Could do this all day luv. Want to” He took a long lick of her “Bleeding hell your cunt is heaven”

He continued to hold her down, making her come at least two more times this way, each time followed by him lapping her up, kissing her thighs, her mons, her stomach.

She was getting to the point where she was having trouble catching her breath and her throat was a little sore from all the moaning she was doing. As she started to come down from the latest one, she hgazed into those eyes of his, finding them glazed over in his own pleasure before he pulled away from her, licking her slit in one more languorous time and unwrapped his arms from around her, resting his elbows on either side of her thighs.

 _Why does it seem like he can read my mind?_ She thought to herself, laying back, sated but still energized enough, wanting nothing more than to catch her breath and keep going at it with him.

“You’re so bloody gorgeous when you come” He murmured, breaking the silence and tracing the sensitive skin of her lips. “Soft pretty petals all covered with sweet dew”

She flushed. He certainly had a way with words, flowing between lyrical prose and filthy smut in a way that seemed so natural for him. That poem he'd recited earlier being a perfect example. She found that she very much liked when he talked to her. The way he effortlessly switched between the gentlemen and the rouge, in and out of the bedroom.

She had never been with someone who was so vocal about what they wanted. But she liked the honesty, and even the crudeness of him was a major turn on. Normally the guess work of what someone needed sexually to stimulate them enough to orgasm was awkward and caused her major anxiety, which didn't help her when she was in already anxious situation. She had some serious hang ups didn't she? But she didn't want to be like that, not with him. Which seemed to be working out already because not once had she felt anxious or stressed out so far, just incredibly turned on. And now she was ready to reciprocate and be able to bring him the same pleasure.

“And what do you look like huh?” She questioned, trying her best at being sultry and enticing. “I bet your just as beautiful. Head thrown back, exposed throat” Her eyes dropped quickly to the bite she'd inflicted on him, angry and bruised still, reveling in the feeling of satisfaction she was feeling of her mark on him.

“Buffy” He groaned

Her eyes lifted to his and his glazed-over look as she moved forward, sitting up and prowling towards him, over him, forcing him to move backwards panting heavily below her.

“Buffy” Her name but a whisper this time but carrying such power as she forced this alpha male to his back.

She sat herself between his open legs, still covered in multiple layers of clothing.

“Why do you get all the fun hmm?” She pouted “Why am I the only one naked?

“Christ luv I..”

“You’re not the only one who was entranced you know” Tapping his Adams apple with her finger and drawing it down his skin, a thin red line appearing down his milky flesh. “I know it’s your job and all but....damn Spike. You literally stopped me in my tracks. All that ivory skin, lean muscle and pretty silver” She flicked a nipple ring and he hissed in pleasure.

“When I saw you dancing the way you did, I had wished it was you that my friends go me that special lap dance from. I would have gone with you in a heartbeat”

“Could still do it” He whispered huskily. “Can be your own private dancer” His eyebrows waggling “Anything you want pet, it’s yours”

“Oh yes. Very much yes. I wanna see what you can do”

“Then let me up baby” He pleaded

“No. Later. Another time? I don't want it to seem like you’re working...and I wanna return the favor”

“Never gonna be work with you lamb” And there was that earnest look in his eyes, sparkling like the moon on dark waters. An honesty that she wasn't used to, and a pleasant thrill went through her knowing that she'd never feel like work to him. That uneasy feeling when it came to being in front of a lover and feeling self-conscious that it was taking too long to come and wondering if Riley or Parker or whoever else she was with was getting bored with her didn't exist here. It wasn't even a thought now.

“Help me get these off” gesturing to the offending tight jeans, her voice low and husky, surprising her but loving the way he moaned in the back of his throat in response.

She ran her hands up over the worn denim, soft and clearly loved, over his shins, knees, the tops of his thighs until she reached the covered length of him.

She laid a hand on him and he felt like steel, thick and lengthy. Her mouth was watering, and her sex depraved cunt was aching for his solid prick.

“Anything you want” His voice a needy breath. His hips were off the bed, pressing himself into her palms, eyes rolling back as she tentatively wrapped a hand around him.

Her hands flashed to buckle of his belt, metal clacking in her ferocity to get the damned thing undone, needing to see those shorts underneath and his prize underneath that.

With some maneuvering from both, and minor difficulties, his jeans finally came off and she tossed them unceremoniously to the four corners of his room. She took a moment to take him in again. Those tight black shorts of his did nothing to hide the raging monster trapped beneath. She'd seen it on stage of course, the evidence of his arousal. Maybe it was the difference in distance but seeing him here below her and vulnerable, he looked even larger than she'd originally thought. Having his offending jeans removed granted her vision to the obvious twitching that was going on that she'd not been privy to when he was on the stage. It was like every time she tried to look away, to gaze at some other beautiful part of him, he pulsed, catching her attention and forced her to look at him again.

Not that she minded, she enjoyed the way she was affecting him, removing his jeans had revealed that sinful V of his and the simple silver studs at his hips, accentuating the prominence of the arc of his ilium. If he couldn't cut glass with those flawless cheekbones of his, he certainly could with his hips. She'd never been with a man who was as thin and sculpted as him and she wasn't used to seeing the jut of bones, but she liked it. Just like every other piercing he had, she wanted to play with it, especially if it had a similar effect that the ones his nipples had on him.

She placed her hands on the tops of his thighs, fingers rubbing small circles into thick corded muscle and thumbs playing with the crease of his thigh and leg, brushing against the chains and zippers of his shorts. She stared at the last barrier of fabric containing the soft looking slopes of constrained testicles and the rigid outline of his hard cock. The girlish voice in the back of her head was voicing her extreme concern over how the hell he was going to fit. She'd certainly never been with a generously gifted man. In his fully engorged state, he took up the majority of his shorts, slanting upwards towards his left hip. Now that she was so close, she could see the tip of him, flushed ruddy head and poking out of the waistband, already beaded with drops of creamy precome. The women inside her screamed and moaned obscenities about riding that monsters until they both collapsed.

It was the women, her inner sex goddess, previously buried under all her insecurities but released in the wake of sexually discovery through him, who took control.

“God poor thing” She whispered seductively. “Trapped in there like that. Does that hurt?”

“In the best possible way” He replied through gritted teeth as she palmed over him with the barest flutter, his breath hitching as she did so.

She daintily slid her hand up and down his confined hardness, gripping him softly and trailing fingertips over the outlines of his sack, prompting long continuous moans from him. He was so pretty in the throes of his pleasure, lean muscle twitching and convulsing, head thrown back, hips raising off the bed. She increased her pace, creeping in closer to him, kneeling between his legs and pressing her knees into his testicles.

“Buffy....Buffy” He panted “Christ pet. Don't stop. Please don't stop” He begged

_Holy hell...is he close already? I've barely done anything to him. Is that a good or bad thing? I mean Riley never really lasted that long either but then again Riley was probably never hard for like an hour or two straight. Hes probably been close to release for a while now. Oh shut up Buffy, I've decided it’s a good thing and I want to see him cum_

She loved the way he hardly took his eyes off her, like he didn't want to miss a single thing. Even now in the coming of his own pleasure he was watching her every move through those sapphire eyes, black with lust. Her gaze drifted to the smooth column of his throat and locked onto the bite mark she'd given him. Some of the blood had smeared and dried around the wound and the skin around it was starting to mottle with dark reds and purples but she wanted to go back. It had driven him wild before and she had very much liked his reaction.

She leaned forward, still tugging on him with the same languorous pace and kissed up his chest with hot open mouth kisses, licking and nipping at his skin along the way. When she got to his neck, her lips hovered over the wound, listening to the whimpering he was making, the soft begging 'pleases', teasing him by licking around the edges, tasting the coppery tang of his blood once again before latching and sucking hard.

“Fuck” She heard him curse, then she felt his hand slip between her thighs, and he plunged three fingers deep within her soaked pussy without warning. She keened at the sudden intrusion, adjusting quickly to the stretch just his fingers forced upon her. Fuck she wanted him. She rode his fingers, rocking against him. His thumb pushed down over her clit, flicking her rapidly until she was already so close, at the same time he was roaring over the edge, and she watched with wide eyes as he spilled himself against his taunt stomach.

“So bleeding tight. Fuck baby that's it, suck em in deep”

She stared in a haze at his belly, the large pool of his milky spending's settling there, pooling in the dip below his navel and spilling over the side of his waist. Old prudish Buffy would have thought it gross; it was getting all over the sheets and making things messy but this...this was hot. She found herself with the startling thought of wanting to taste him.

When she felt him curl his fingers against that bundle of nerves that only he'd been able to find, she clenched around him, following him closely and cumming with his name on her lips.

“Fuck your bloody strong” He cursed, fingers still buried deep and thumb still flicking her swollen clit, keeping her coming and coming until she crested again, smaller but still powerful it came rolling off the first one, sending another wave of curses from him.

He stopped after she finished coming down, removing his fingers and bringing them to his mouth, sucking them in like it was a habit. She had never seen anything like it before like it was so second nature and utterly him.

“You’re an interesting man” She slurred, still lazily coming down.

She heard the audible pop of his fingers exiting that perfect mouth before he paused and spoke.

“Interesting in a good way I hope”

She felt herself smile

“Very much with the good. I don't think I've ever met someone like you. Someone so...complete”

“Hussat?”

“I mean...and bear with me here because Buffy and words aren't usually mixy. Especially when I'm pretty sure the seven orgasms...”

“Eight” He interrupted, licking the last of his fingers and giving her a knowing smirk, a fire still burning behind those eyes,

“Right...see what I mean. Brain's all fuzzy. Anyways what I mean is....I've never met someone so put together...three dimensional”

“Well yeah, not some bloody shape on a paper”

“Will you stop interrupting” She huffed “This is really hard for me and I'm trying to give you a compliment”

Was it a good or bad thing that she had only known him for a few hours and he was already learning how to push her buttons?

“Sorry luv. Your just so bloody cute when your all flustered. Turns your skin this pretty shade of pink. I know plenty of other ways to do that, but this is nice too”

She rolled her eyes

“Do you ever stop thinking with that thing?” She shot back, gesturing towards his shorts.

“Not bloody likely around you. Usually able to control it. Why'd you think I made such a big deal about not being hard on stage for anyone but you?”

_Oh well...that's kinda sweet. He really does know how to lay it on, even if its hidden in pervy comments._

“Well will you just try for like...five minutes? That's all I'm asking”

“Five? Should be enough”

“For...what exactly?”

He raised both eyebrows, seemingly off his face and it was then that she noticed that beneath the silver ring on his left eyebrow there appeared to be a scar. Why hadn't she noticed that before?

“Well...I'm guessing that with the tossers you've been with, they were one and done. I actually like to please my lady. I apologize for popping off so quickly, it's been a bit for me and being hard for so long tends to do that. No worries. Just need a few mo' fore I can go again. Refractory period and all that rot. My body's in near perfect condition but I'm still human”

She should have been pissed at him for the comments towards her exes but...he was kind of right. She couldn't think of any instance where they'd gone more than once. It had certainly never happened to her. And she was so excited by the prospect of again that it didn't seem to matter.

“Right” She mumbled, flustered by him. “What I mean is that I don't think I've ever met someone with some many different sides. Some of which really contradict each other but they just make you this complete kind of person. Like...you've got this bad boy thing going on, but you like classic art and have a fuckin library of all things. I guess you've got some money but yet you strip as a living. You come off tough but you’re probably the sweetest person I've ever met. You’re an enigma to me....a puzzle. But it makes you more real”

For someone who looked dangerous, she'd never met anyone more expressive than him. He had that raw emotional look in his eyes, like he might start crying but he was holding it back really well. He also looked thoroughly debauched. Eyes still hard and black with lust but shining with this glow of contentment and awe. The spikes of his hair were breaking loose and falling flat into soft curls, his breathing was starting to steady, but she still took in ragged breaths and that pool of cum still dripped onto the sheets below. He looked like a well spent lover.

“Ta pet” He murmured quietly after a few moments of silence, like he was trying to collect himself “Means a hell of a lot to me”

He was reclined back now, at ease laying before her. He had one hand propped behind his head and the other draped across his eyes. She knew he was still recovering, but she was still thrumming with the need for him. She reached out for him, laying the palms of her hands on the warm skin of his inner thighs, gently working the tight muscles.

“Feels good pet” He purred lazily

She rubbed him down for a few more minutes, gathering her boldness, before grabbing at the waist of his shorts and started pulling them down his toned legs, not wanting to wait any longer. If she was going to be naked here, he needed to be too.

He lifted his arm to glance at her, content blue eyes, calm like a gentle lake meeting her own for a few seconds before he slid his arm back into place, raising his hips a bit to help her out.

She slid them down slowly, the anticipation killing her and slowly but finally bared the entirety of him to her.

She noticed immediately that he was different. The dark reddish brown of his heavy sack was emphasized by his complete lack of hair there was well as the sparse amount of manicured hair at the base of him. It wasn't scraggly and messy like she was used to it and she found it extremely pleasant to look at.

She also noticed that the pale pink of his cock looked completely different than the others she'd seen. Not that she was \ an expert in what they look like. She'd only seen a grand total of three in her life so far but none of them had looked anything like this. For one, now that he wasn't hard, she couldn't fully see the head, it was tucked away underneath some extra skin. She could however see a glint of silver sticking of from the folds of skin there.

After staring for what she knew was forever she looked back up at him and found him staring, both arms propped behind his head with a look of mirth in his eyes.

“You look like you've never seen a prick before. All red in the cheeks like that” He teased

“I have! I so have!” She shouted, getting flustered and embarrassed for having him call her out on her lack of experience.

“I've just..”

“All of em been cut then yeah? Figures. Most yanks are. Where I come from pet we leave it in tack”

Okay...so he didn't have that thing done when he was a baby. What was that called? The thing the Jewish guys did? Circumcision! That was it.

“Trust me pet. It'll be much better for you. Feels better”

“Yeah?” She questioned “And how would you know that?”

His lips curled in a devious smile giving her a 'wouldn't you like to know' look but saying nothing more.

“Fine...be all secrety about it. You wanna tell me what this is?” She demanded, flicking her pinkie against the bit of silver she could see.

He groaned a bit.

“Told you earlier when you first saw these” He said removing his hands from behind his head and grabbing a hold of the rings through his dusky nipples “That I had more. All over” He gestured to the ones on his face and in his tongue and ran black painted fingernails down his body where the dermals at his hips were and then over his still softened cock.

“I didn't think you meant all this” She muttered, bewildered by all of these things she'd never known people to do. “I mean didn't they hurt?”

He shrugged

“Yeah a bit. But now that you know me you know that”

“You liked it” She finished

“Yeah....and I didn't do it just for me”

“What does that even mean?” Her head cocking in curiosity

HE curled his tongue behind his teeth.

“You'll see soon enough” He drawled mysteriously but gave nothing else away

She noticed that even though he was still soft, he was back to his cocky self, which made her think he was maybe ready to go now, which was much of the good because she didn't think she could wait much longer to find out what he meant.

She bent to him, placing soft butterfly kisses from his navel down the sharp lines of the V of him, over his pubic bone and licked down the soft length of him. He sighed in pleasure as her lips brushed him. and groaned when she took the entirety of him in her mouth. Soft and warm she pulled him in deep, enjoying the rush of pride that ran through her at having all of him in her mouth in such a vulnerable position like this. He grunted when she forced him down deep, already starting to feel him swell.

“Feels so good pet. Love your hot little mouth on me. All stuffed full of my cock”

She responded by laving her tongue against the underside swirling her tongue against the extra bits of skin until her pointed tongue came across something cold and hard and she audibly yipped, causing him to pop out of her mouth. She grabbed him, semi hard and growing by the second, and pulled him so that he was tight against his belly, vulnerable underside face up. And there was another small glint of silver on the underside of his head.

“More!?” He gasped looking with bug eyes at the thing.

He chuckled darkly

“What can I say pet, I'm a bit of an odd duck”

She studied the little piercing a bit more, a small silver bar that bisected the bit of flesh just under his head, before roaming a bit lower to nuzzle her nose into his hairless sac, something she didn't particularly enjoy doing before. But with the lack of hair she was pleasantly surprised to find she kind of liked the soft smoothness of him.

Not to mention his reaction of throwing his head back and gripping the sides of the bed had a renewed wetness sliding down the backs of her thighs. She licked the underside of him, running her tongue against that strange wrinkly skin of him, tonging one ball and then the other, mouthing him, kissing him until she was so entranced by the steady moans coming from him she nearly forgot to come up for air. When she did, she licked him one last time before trailing back up the fully hardened length of him.

“Cor that was hot kitten. I bet you enjoyed the hell of that didn't you? I can tell, all flushed and panting like that. I bet your soaked for me aren't you. Christ your gonna feel so good”

She loved how talkative he was. She was never going to get tired of hearing him. And it made her more confident because when she looked down at him now that he was fully erect there was a little bit of fear and doubt in the back of her mind. There was no way she was going to fit much of him. The thick engorged glans of him was now fully exposed, already wet and shiny and showing off that pretty silver hoop that was threaded through his slit and emerged behind the front of his head. As she pumped her hand up and down the length of him, earning soft groans from her punk lover, she felt the bumps of the silver balls on the underside too.

She leaned down and engulfed the top of him, playing with the little ring in his slit as he moaned and squirmed beneath her, lithe fingers threading their way through her hair and digging into her scalp but making no move to tug her down. She was grateful, because she was sure that if he did she was going to gag on him, embarrassing herself.

She then sucked him down, using her other hand to make up for all of him she couldn't fit in her tiny mouth.

He groaned in appreciation and she took him down deep, her other unoccupied hand reaching down to fondle his smooth sack, not wanting him to think she'd leave it out.

“Christ your so hot. Feels like your gonna burn me up. Bleeding hell your amazing at this”

His praise made her confidence well inside her, eager to take in more of him, anything to please him. She withdrew him, still pumping at his base but flipping him up on his toned stomach so she could lick and nibble at the underside, making figure eights around his other piercing and nibble at his bits of extra skin. He made a desperate needy sound at that.

She met his gaze and engulfed the blaze of those twilight eyes of his, glazed over in euphoria. It was those eyes, locked in on her that had her withdrawing him from her mouth, no longer able to stand another moment without him being in her. Scrambling she climbed up the length of his body so that she hovered over him. She gripped him at the base and then she was sinking onto him, her tight walls expanding to take him in all at once, her soaked channel allowing her to take him hard and fast until he was seated deep inside her causing them both to release deep throaty moans.

She felt so full, so stretched, so utterly filled with him buried deep inside and there was something so immensely powerful, empowering in having an experienced being like Spike underneath her, moaning and cursing his pleasures.

“Dear god Spike. I think your splitting me in half. I think I need a sec okay? You feel so good” She rambled Since she couldn't move much, she sat atop him and clenched around him, squeezing him tight, looking down the length of his carved from marble body with all that tight muscle and creamy ivory skin and glints of silver. He was beautiful, delectable, a gentleman, a punk, full of lovable sweetness and downright sin. A perfect yin and yang wrapped up in a perfect yummy package. And she surmised...about to be the best fuck of her life.

“Look at you baby. All a glow with my prick buried deep in your vise of a cunt. Cor there aren't any words to describe how you feel. Better than I could have imagined. So goddamn tight you are. Gonna make me cum squeezing me like that. Do it again” He begged. “Do it again”

So she did. While she waited for her body to fully accept him, stretched to the point of aching but in a satisfying way, she focused on moving those muscles hers, clenching around him until he was crying out her name. It was an utterly intoxicating sound to hear a man make.

Slowly she started to move her hips, still adjusting to the sheer size of him, rocking gently. Loving the way he felt, hard as steel and pulsing within in her. Every time she came down, he met her gentle movements with his own, breathy sighs escaping his lips. He softly held onto her hips, steadying her and she was glad of it because her head was swimming, full of fluffy cotton. It occurred to her then, the way he was moving, rolling his hips up into her, abs flexing with every move, that he was meeting her as if he was dancing. She **_had_ **wondered what it felt like hadn't she? It was rapturous, the way he slid into her, filling her up, pausing and pulsing so she could feel that hard length of him throbbing deep inside her and when he did she felt that cold silver bead in his slit bump back against her cervix and she keened, revealing in the sensation of hot swollen flesh pushing in and out of her and the contrast of cold silver. Was this what he'd meant about it feeling better? Would it feel even better if he was thrashing against her.

As much as she liked this gentle rhythm they had going, she wanted more. The next time she came down on him it was a little harder, a little faster, again, again ,again until she was bouncing on top of him. And she could feel it tap, tap, tap against her cervix a little harsher now sending her spiraling into ecstasy.

“That's a girl. Feels good doesn't it. Feels good with me buried in you. Told you it would” He purred huskily, firing her up even more.

He was staring at their joining place with a heated intensity that made her insides liquefy.

“Can make it even better for you lamb. Lean back a bit, I've got you here” He whispered, wrapping tight around the tops of her thighs fingers already finding their way to her smooth mons, positioning themselves.

She threw her head back, not bothering to bite back the whine in her throat and obeyed him, if not for anything but knowing he would never steer her wrong when it came to her pleasure. He was already a master at it. Knew exactly how to play her liked the deviled musician he was. Was this learned from books or experience? At the moment she didn't care because as she leaned back, he thrust up and brushed some secret spot on her, known but only to he who possessed the map. Her beautiful cartographer.

“Spike!” She cried out, baring down on the spot over and over and over again, picking up speed as she rode him, all the while listening to his silver tongue

“Good girl. Beautiful girl. My ray of sunshine. Take your pleasure sweetheart. Don't hold anything back and ride me just like that” He rambled, voice thick and heady.

He got her so hot, so incredibly wet and her blood was roaring through her ears, her heartbeat was her metronome and it seemed to be playing on stereo because he moved at the same frantic pace as she. It kept building and building up to some great implosion within her. She didn't think she'd ever feel such great pleasure, but like everything about the gorgeous man beneath her, his cock must be magic too.

She glanced down between them now as well, wondering why Spike was so transfixed by it and when she did, she felt the power and insatiable lust course through her. Seeing his massive cock, hard and red and covered in her slickness, watching it all disappear deep within her made her feel like some kind of sex goddess. Some fertility deity her mom had brought home as part of a collections that had awakened in the past hour. And it was all because of him.

She took him in, flushed, pink and heaving, pupils blown wide and that platinum hair all awry. She placed her hands on his chest and looped her pinkies through those rings and rode down on him hard. Grinding into him with an intensity she knew she wouldn't be able to keep up for long. She felt his initial stutter of shock at her change in pace, hips stopping and then snapping up to meet her new rhythm. She tugged at the rings, rolling peaked nipples between her fingers while pulling at the silver.

“Fuck Buffy. Do it harder” He whined beneath her, singing that air melody of pleasure pain as she manipulated them to the point where he was yowling, hips arced and was buried so deep in her she was

crying out and seeing stars.

She felt the oncoming of her orgasm and had to have contact with him. She released the rings, earning a needy whine and pressed herself flat against his chest, sweat and his spending's squishing between them but she didn't care. The only thing that mattered now was him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, cradling the back of his head, digging fingers into his scalp. She dove for his lips, slanting her mouth over his to take him in deep, tongues battling the moment he let her in with a deep rumble in his chest. His corded arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he found her back with the same intensity, both hips and lips crashing together.

He pulled away, harshly breathing but still managing to talk to her coherently.

“I've got you; I've got you” He chanted, and she let him take most of the control. He buried his face in her neck and she felt him lapping at her hot skin, sucking on her pulse to the point she knew she was going to have hickey tomorrow, but she didn't care. She'd already marked him; it was only fair. And she'd wear any of his marks proudly. She could never be ashamed of a lover like him. He made it a point to tilt her head just enough to be able to whisper in her ear.

“Such a tight little cunny you have, all hot and wet for me. Want to feel you come. Want to feel you drench me good”

Through the potent cocktail of the movement of his hips, the pounding of him against that deep part of her and the dark molasses of his voice that bubbling energy that was boiling inside of her rose and up and flowed from her like a rushing tide. Powerful and coming in waves she jerked against him and all the while he mumbled to her about how she was quivering all around him, soaking him, squeezing him He continued to pump into her lazily after she came down, slumped hard against his hard body.

“Spike” She murmured, tired and weak. She wasn't sure how much more she was going to be able to take, her body not used to this kind of treatment, but she never wanted it to end.

“Gonna get one more out of you precious” His voice low and rough even though her body felt like jelly she couldn't not keep going, wouldn't stop him. She was amazed that with all the friction, the fast pace of their fucking and his seemingly endless stamina that she didn't feel the least bit sore, rubbed raw and sensitive, not like she had with even short encounters with Riley and the others.

She noticed she was being moved. He withdrew from her and she was shocked with herself at how much she missed him being in her, how attached she was to him already.

“Come back” She mewled, grabbing out but finding nothing.

“Never leaving little darling. Don't think I'm capable of it now. Now turn on your hands and knees for me”

She obeyed slowly, and with his help, turned herself over, putting all her weight in her forearms as she leaned down against the bed. Her muscles were strained, and it felt like she was a melted Buffy puddle but when she felt him, solid muscle behind her, cock teasing against her still drenched entrance she moaned for him.

He held tight onto her hips and slid home in one smooth thrust. A weak moan crawling from her throat in response to his shuddering one.

“You fill me up so good” She moaned deliriously, drunk on the way he was sliding in and out of her, of the power he had over her in this position. “How do you feel even bigger this way?

His response was explosive, bestial.

“Christ Buffy” He hissed, snapping his hips furiously. It was all she could do to try and hold herself up while he pounded into her. The wet heavy smacks of flesh on flesh and chorus of groans and grunts that filled the otherwise silent house. She did her best to try and keep a rhythm with him, moving back against him as he violently thrust forward, but he was relentless, and it felt like her muscles had been turned to mush. He lifted her hips up, changed the way he thrust in and out of her a few times, the deepness of his strokes, the pacing and then all of a sudden, the intensity of pleasure was overwhelming. “Oh god Spike. Oh God. There! There!” She cried out to him using the last bits of energy she didn't know she had to fall back against him, his heavy sack slapping swollen pussy lips as she struck some other bundle of pleasure with his wicked frenulum piercing.

With every thrust he struck home, rubbed against that spot with perfect aim and she had a feeling that he'd never forget it, marked it with a big red X along with the pulse of her neck, the hollow of her throat and her rosy tits as treasured zones.

Her muscles were twitching, signaling the oncoming of a great released, one like she'd never felt before.

“Spike I...”

“I know pet. I know. Can feel it. Can feel you. All a flutter around me you are” His coaxing lust filled voice only adding to the sensation. He drew closer to her, like she had him when she was coming, and she loved the feeling of warmth and connectiveness it made her feel. He laid his front against her back; hot and heavy and it was both sexy and comforting with the weight of him pressed against her. A few more powerful strokes and she was violently cumming, pressed tightly against him she was dimly aware that the sound coming from her throat was some long drawn out and tangled wet sound cry. She was too weak for anything else.

She felt him grow larger and pulse within her, his cock head brushing deep against the entrance to her womb, the arrhythmic thrusting of his hips as he pumped a few more times into her before he was withdrawing, the full sensation of him gone, her still spasming cunny tightening around air now as he laid heavy against her back. She felt the warm spurts of him, long and seemingly unending pooling in the dimples of her back, listened to his breathy moans and heavy panting as he came down too.

Moments later there was movement around her, the mattress dipping but she made no attempt to get up and see. In the stillness of the night she heard his feet padding across the hardwood floor and it was a few minutes before he returned.

“Where'd you go?” She mumbled sleepily.

“To fetch a few things before bed”

The bed shifted again as he neared her and then a wet cloth was at her back, wiping the remains of his now tepid spending's.

“Brought you a small snack, some water and your phone”

At the mention of food, she turned over and shakily raised herself to a sitting position, taking the small bowl of apple slices and grapes greedily. She plucked at a grape, heavy with sugar and brought it to her lips, chewing slowly.

“Stay with me tonight? Tomorrow we'll talk all this out” He asked.

She didn't fail to notice the hopefulness in his voice.

“Even if I wanted to leave, my legs aren't working” She mumbled, flushing red all over.

“Hmm..” He grumbled “Just your legs? I'll have to up my game next time”

She felt her eyes go wide as she met his sapphire ones, full of ardor and mischief but said nothing more, leaving it where it was, a promise for another night. She wasn't going to refuse him that.

She fiddled with her phone before finally sending a quick text out to her friends.

_Girls,_

_Sorry the night didn't go as planned, but I still go something amazing out of it so thank you. I promise to tell you all about it later and that I'm safe and sound._

_Ps. Dawn knows too_

“There, all good” She said shutting it, eating the last bits of the fruit. He set the items aside and drew them towards the headboard and under the sheets. Oh god these sheets felt good on her naked skin. The man really knew how to live.

“Are you a cover stealer?” She asked him through a yawn as he drew her into him,

He chuckled.

“Not that I'm aware. I am, however, very fond of cuddling. So come closer lamb and let me hold you while we sleep” He murmured against her shoulder laying tiny little kisses that were still sending tingles down to her toes.

_Ooh perfect, amazing sex and cuddles. He truly is some kind of magic man_

“It’s official. This is the best birthday ever” She whispered, eyes growing heavy

After a few moments of silence, just listening to him breathing as they fell into blissful sleep, she felt the words coming out of her mouth.

“I think I like you Spike”

Another kiss to the back of her neck.   
“I think I like you too, Buffy. Sweet dreams luv”

And then there was blissful silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there go. My first AU/human fic. Definitely not my last. I've already started working on the next chapter which is gonna be set in season 6 and will be the first fic I've written where its not so cutsey between them. I feel like I'm going to struggle to write this, but I want to challenge myself.  
> Songs Mentioned:  
> Magic Man by Heart  
> Nice and Slow by Usher  
> Closer by Nine Inch Nails  
> Dangerous - Ghost of the Robot
> 
> I'm going to be working on making a playlist on Spotify with all the song's I've used as titles and within the chapters as well in case anyone is interesting in listening to a soundtrack to the fic. Like I've said before, music is a huge part of my life and its hard not for me to include it. 
> 
> The poem that incorporated into this chapter is called Basket of Figs by Ellen Bass. I read it once and fell in love with it, the sensuality of it and the sexual nature of the metaphor


	4. Bowl for Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in season 6 after Older and Far Away. Buffy returns from work at the DMP to find that Dawn has gone missing. Her friends offer her the night off by taking care of it and Spike gives her the chance to relax. How? By offering to smoke a little Maryjane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is staying safe out there with the pandemic going around. I apologize for the long span of time between updates, my Masters is coming to the end of the semester and with a research paper, a presentation and a numerous amount of other projects going on I haven't had much time for anything else. Not to mention that since I'm an essential worker my schedule has only gotten more hectic. This chapter is heavily influenced by my own experiences and thats all I'll say about that. I know in the notes from my last chapter I said I was gonna try and write something that wasn't lovey and...I tried. I got some of it in there but as I was writing it, you'll be able to see the remnants of it but I realized it wasn't going to go that way. They just want to be together and love each other. So I let em.

Oh I, I packed this bowl for two  
And I, I’m gonna wanna smoke it with you  
Yes, you know it is time  
For us to sit down and unwind  
I know the feeling, I know the feeling   
So, stay with me tonight  
Gonna kick back relax, make sure the ganja’s packed  
And we’ll feel alright

Bowl for Two-The Expendables

~

She was vaguely aware that there was indeed a group of people at the register. A perfect nuclear family where son and daughter looked like mom and dad and all of them were just on this side of being a stone too heavy. She recognized them, if not them but some other family that looked, sounded and behaved like them. Cogs in the endless wheel that is the fast food industry. With half a mind she listened to the burly head of the family list off his family’s meal for the night. Punched the corresponding pictures, no wait...not that one…this one instead. Go back, cancel that out, repeat, repeat, repeat.

All she could really hear was the droning white noise that the overhead lights made. Fluorescent and too bright, shining the wrong kind of luminance down on workers and customers alike. They showed every skin imperfection and caught the sweat and smudge that covered the faces of the sheep that ate the low tier culinary offerings this fine establishment had to offer. It had the effect of making the dead look that much more so. She would know since one dead guy in particular who kept coming in and didn’t seem to get it through that thick helmet of gelled up hair, albeit soft and curly underneath, that it made him look that much more pallor. 

“That’ll be 35.74 please” She heard herself say in monotone.   
Then there was the exchange of cash, dirt and who knows what else covered cloth paper which was used to buy goods and services like the good capitalist lemmings that they were. She sounded like Anya. 

They stood off to the side, waited for their grease filled parcels and the next lambs for the slaughter stood in front of her with the same dull look on their faces, like contemplating the choice they were about to make was life changing. And so the never-ending line continued. 

It was well into her shift that night. Dark had already settled over the plagued down of Sunnydale and while her friends were out covering her black cargo grease stained ass, she was here, picking at the dirt under her fingernails while she stood at the register. She was earning her paycheck so that she could afford for her and Dawn to eat, not that she was eating much anyways, and for the copious bills that were piled up. Why did water and electricity cost so much? And to hell with trash, she could probably just burn it right? That way she could get rid of one thing off the never-ending list of costs. And it wasn’t just bills on her mind. Now she had to worry about Dawn and her kleptomaniac tendencies. What another end to another perfect Buffy birthday

“Buffy…..Buffy?!”

It wasn’t until the third or fourth repeat of her name that she realized that someone was talking to her. She glanced over, blinking out of a daze she didn’t remember going into and saw that her female coworker. Sarah…Sam…Sophie! Trying to get her attention  
“Buffy, silly, I’ve been trying to get your attention for a couple minutes now. Your all clear to take your break. I’ll take over here for you”

The sentence, entirely too positive and energic for the words coming out of her mouth barely registered to her for a moments. Then her fuzzy brain put the pieces together. Break. Sit. Eat. Not Work.   
She nodded, not able to do much more than that while pulling off her company hat, letting her hair fall to her shoulders. She grabbed a soda and a sandwich, kept warm from the heating lamp and went to sit by herself in the corner for the next half hour or so. The wrapping paper of the sandwich crinkled as she opened it and the next time she looked up at the clock, fifteen minutes of her break was already gone. Not a thought in her head. Was that good or bad? The peace and quiet was nice. Rare. But it made the voices and the growling in her head seem twice as loud when they came back. 

How could Dawn be doing this? What had processed her little sister to start stealing things? Especially from right under their noses at the Magic Box and from Anya, who was supposed to be their friend. If she was stealing trinkets and knickknacks from a magic store and leather coats there was no limit to the number of things she had already stolen or would be willing to steal. 

She wanted to believe that this was just a teenager thing, a rebellion issue because she was coming of age and found out that she was able to get away with things. But she knew, deep down she knew otherwise. Yes, this was a way for Dawn to lash out at her and the rest of the world. She was a teenage girl once and when she was mad at her mother, her guardian figure, she would pull similar stunts. She had tried to get her mom’s attention by doing stupid shit. It was Dawn’s way to get noticed by someone, anyone, especially her big sister. 

But big sister couldn’t be there anymore. Not for herself, for her friends, not even for her sister. The only person she could stand to be around anymore barely counted a person. Wasn’t human. Just a demon trapped in a pleasant package, tamed by bits of wiring and plastic, like a serial killer trapped in prison. A vampire who happened to make her feel something for a couple hours (or all night). After all, something was better than the hollow feel of nothing, even if the feelings afterwards were even worse.   
She shook those thoughts from her head. Right now, taking Spike up for another night was sounding like a good idea again and she was trying to stop ending up with him in the wee quiet hours. She knew that it was wrong. Knew that every time she went back to him, or when he came to her on break or showed up at her house that she was digging herself deeper into a hole she was going to struggle to get out of. 

Not that she had dared tried to. She wasn’t sure if it was because the hole had just become steeper or if she’d wanted to give up trying to, because she felt a change. It was somewhere deep within her, something she didn’t want to admit to herself just yet, but it was there. She wanted to feel good for a change and she knew that it felt good when she was with him. 

As with everything currently apart of her life, nothing was ever simple. She knew what he was; an evil soulless vampire, a killer masked by a seriously pretty face but controlled because of some new age military technology. It should have been simple, Slayer vs vampire. Slayer stakes vampire. Vampire goes poof, ashes in the wind. She never should have made that truce with him, ever since the chalk line had been blurred and no matter what he did, no matter what stupid scheme or filthy thing that came out of his mouth, she couldn’t turn him away and she couldn’t stake him. 

She wasn’t even sure that if anything happened to the chip and he was able to hurt more than just her, if he would go back to his old ways. If nothing else she had learned that he was incredibly opportunistic and unpredictable. A year ago, and she was sure he would have become a killer again, do anything to have fresh human blood rather than the stuff they were forcing him to feed on now. But now? Now she wasn’t so sure, not after Glory, not after her death, not after they had sung their hearts out. She had seen this other side of him, one that no one else, save for maybe Dawn, has had the privilege to see. One that she still wasn’t sure she wanted to acknowledge, especially since they had started sleeping together and all the feelings in the brain of Buffy were becoming all mixy. 

But this side of him stuck around in Sunnydale with the Scoobies, people that continued to put him down and treated him like the creature he was even when she wasn’t around. Who watched dutifully over her sister, protected her with his life, played stupid games and watched girly movies and played the perfect babysitter instead of going out on the town to Willy’s or whatever other trashy demon bar was in this town to get drunk and raise hell, something she knew he’d rather be doing. Who had no idea what the rest of her friends were planning, had nothing to gain from being around and doing the white hat act because no one was going to pat him on the back and tell him he was doing good. There was no chance to use her as leverage or try and get into her pants because said pants and everything else that he wanted was six feet under, decomposed and covered in grave dust, maggots and bone. 

She asked herself so many times why he did what he did if there was nothing for him to gain. It all ended in headaches. Endless battles of what good and evil meant. Was he making these changes purely because he had nothing better to do? Because the chip was forcing him to be the white hat he had never wanted to be? She knew that Spike hated to be bored. It was the reason she was able to beat him at their very first fight and undoubtedly ever other. While she didn’t doubt it had something to do with it, a new part of her wondered if he was doing all of this because he wanted to. 

Could a creature…A man..like Spike be good? He was certainly good at a lot of things, to which her brain shot her a very clear image of lithe fingers sliding through wet heat.  
Eww Buffy, definitely not what we’re talking about right now  
He had proven to her a few times now that he was a powerful ally, and someone she could leave her sister with. Something she never would have expected of him or of herself before this year. 

She didn’t know if she could ever really trust him….but then Glory came to mind. He’d gone through so much torture, so much pain and could have given them up at any moment, made it easier on himself. But he didn’t. She could at least trust him enough that he wouldn’t spill valuable information to even her worst enemies.

She wished he would stop spouting all that garbage he did about loving her. Regardless of anything that idiot said, he couldn’t love her. She would admit that he felt things, maybe even felt things towards her, but it wasn’t love. Lust in heaps, definitely. Passion, sure? Maybe he even liked her. But what he felt couldn’t be love, she had a hard time letting herself believe that. He didn’t have a soul, no conscious. No way to emotionally connect with anyone. But…if all of that was true, why was it he was the only person that could understand her? The only person that got why she was so unhappy being back here with all this grief and stress and brightness. 

The first Slayer had told her she was full of love, but lately she hadn’t felt it. She couldn’t feel it towards Willow and Xander, her very best friends who had been with her since the beginning. For Giles, the protective father figure she had longed or even her own sister. They were her closest friends and family. Spike was none of those things. He was just…convenient. A body that happened to make her feel really good and someone she kind of liked some of the time when he wasn’t being a complete ass (and some of the time when he was). 

Great She thought. Just another thing she had to add to the list of complications of things she was dealing with. Ever since she’d been pulled out of heaven and brought back to hell on earth they all seemed to just keep piling up. She secretly cursed Tara. As good and sweet as she was, for telling her that nothing was wrong with her when she so badly wanted there to be. It would certainly explain why these…feelings towards Spike were suddenly there. She had hoped and prayed that when she asked about the spell there was something wrong about coming back. But no. The only thing that was wrong here was her. Spike’s ability to hit her that fateful night and all the nights after that when they mauled each other like animals had proven that. 

And not only did she have to deal with her sister stealing, something she would have to of course deal with herself now that Giles wasn’t around to help her anymore. Now she had to deal with these three…nerds. Kids that were her age, that were classmates of hers. A bunch of guys playing scientist and just fucking with her day because they could. Ice rays, invisibility, timey-wimey bullshit, exploding lint?! And yet they were still giving her the complete runaround. She still hadn’t even managed to find the twerps. They had come close a couple of times but the Scoobies were disorganized. With Anya and Xander about to get married and Willow recovering from magic, it wasn’t easy finding time to work with them lately, not that she had felt the compulsion anyways. This also didn’t include the big break up of the witches, Dawn’s behavior, this…whatever she had with Spike, and her employment here. 

Everyone else was busy and so the nerd herd kept getting away with things that the old Buffy and the old Scoobies would have never stood by. She was literally the worst Slayer of all time, and she’d read about a poor girl who’d been called and killed in the same day. 

She looked up at the clock, only five more minutes left in her break. She might as well go back. Sitting here and thinking about all the misery that was her life right now certainly wasn’t helping and she hadn’t even touched her food. As she went to get up though, she felt the tinglies in her spine creep up and she sighed in frustration. Not now dammit. 

“Go away” She huffed angrily, not even bothering to look behind her. She knew he was there, no one else felt like him. But of course, he didn’t listen, brushed past her, leather fluttering behind her as he sat opposite of her. 

His face was still swollen, the bruising around his eye was almost gone but it was still an ugly mottled bluish-purple color. Seemed his vampire healing hadn’t quite fixed the damage she had done to him the other night, which puzzled her. He should have been better by now. Why wasn’t he? Guilt squirmed in the back of her mind, beating up on him so often, hurting him the way she did even though he’d done nothing but try and help her as of late. 

No. She shook those thoughts away. No this was the asshole who told her that the only thing better than killing a Slayer was fucking one. Right after he’d told her how much he loved her. Contradictory much Spike?  
“Slayer” The world rolling off his tongue as a long drawn out purr “Thought I said you should get out of this place” His tone steady and neutral.   
“You don’t get to tell me anything. You’re not important enough to warrant any weight in the decisions I make”  
She would not acknowledge the flash of hurt in those piercing blue eyes, couldn’t, because that would mean that he was feeling emotion. That she could hurt him so easily meant that he might be more human than she thought, more human then herself. Because she certainly wasn’t feeling anything. The look in his eye was quickly replaced by anger, a flame of white-hot fire that made the blue of his eyes stand out.   
“Right” He growled “Thought you wanted…”  
“I don’t” She rebuked harshly, not allowing him to finish  
“You haven’t even let me..”  
“I don’t need to Spike. What else would you be here for. Go away. I’m not interested”  
“Infuriating bitch. Not what I came here for”  
She sighed  
“Then why are you here Spike? Unless you can somehow catch the Trio right now or stop Dawn from stealing, which I have half a mind that it’s your fault anyways”  
“Oi! I didn’t…” He tried to interject  
“Or if you can somehow magically fix my house and pay my water bill and the trash guys and the electric and the mortgage…” She counted off on fingers and she was started to freak out, get anxious. Everything was coming back to her in great waves of grief and trouble, deadly riptides dragging her under so she couldn’t breathe anymore. Was it hot in here? Was she hyperventilating? Why were things starting to go black.  
“Hey” She heard him say in a quiet tone, reaching out to touch her but her eyes widened, and she drew her arm back from him like he’d burnt her. She felt caged, like a frightened animal.   
“Buffy…pet…listen to me”  
“Don’t call me that” She seethed. The shock melting away to anger in a flash, anger that she could wield to hurt and protect herself. But even then the anger faded away almost as quickly as it had shown up. Then she felt…nothing. It was then she heard his voice again.   
“I told you before. I can get you dosh. Anything you need” Pleading with her “I’ll get it for you Buffy. Least let me do that”  
“What? By playing card games? Cheating other demons? Offering up cuddly kittens. No thanks Spike. I’ve had my fill of your version of income” She snarled.  
“Have other ways. Nothing like that. Old fashion ways” He offered softly, strangely even tempered even though she was doing nothing but laying into him tonight. His gentle tone confused the hell out of her.   
“Like what? William the Bloody has a bank account?”  
“Of sorts yeah. Can’t exactly have the real thing. Being dead for over a hundred and thirty years means I don’t exist. Not to mention I grew up on the other side of the pond. But I’ve got my ways pet. Have a bit tucked away and gaining interest”  
“You’re definitely lying. There’s no way yours responsible enough for that”  
“Believe what you want you infuriating chit” He said with a frustrated sigh running fingers through his hair “Just thought I’d try and help.  
He made the motion of getting up, outstretching his arms and placing his palms on the table. “If you need me, you know where to find me. Can’t imagine it’ll be long before I see you again”  
“You won’t. I’m done with this Spike. No more”  
He eyed her knowingly.   
“Right…whatever you say luv”  
She heard the sound of his heavy Doc Martins slap against the linoleum floor in tempo with that bad boy swagger and then he was gone. She expected him to be lingering outside of the building, just waiting for her to get off her shift, but within moments she felt the tingles unique to him fade away, away, away and then they were gone.   
She closed her eyes and placed her head against the table, the greasy smell of the double meat sandwich assaulting her, and she pushed it further away from her. 

Why did this happen? Why didn’t her friends or even Giles conclude that when she’d moved on she wouldn’t be going to a hell dimension? Was it because Angel had been sent to one? Had they conveniently forgotten about the existence of the other ‘good’ dimensions. She still wasn’t sure if she was in Heaven with a capital H, like actual Heaven with angels and God and pearly white gates, but she was safe and warm, and her mom had been there so it must have been Heaven. Everything was just…numb now. She was numb, she had to be. Because when she consciously thought about everything she had lost and where she had been and where she was now, she had to be numb in order to deal with it. So why did it feel good when she was around Spike? Why was being with him a comfort to her? Was it because he wasn’t involved with her resurrection? Did her subconscious believe that since he hadn’t known about what was going on she shouldn’t harbor the same uneasiness that she did for the rest of her friends?

Was it because he was a creature of the dark? Someone who understood her hatred for the light because he himself had lost it so long ago? When he had died and become something else? Maybe it was because of the tentative connection they had, if you could call it that, from the fight against Glory and even further back from when they had briefly been engaged. Or was it a combination of all these things? She didn’t know the answer to these questions. Hell. She wasn’t sure if she wanted the answers, she just wanted to go to sleep. This table seemed kind of comfy. 

“Buffy!” She heard a familiar voice call.   
“Huh..whuh..?” She dazedly lifted her head and looked over her shoulder at the counter where…what’s her name was waving her over.   
Phooey…guess break is over already.

For the rest of her shift she mulled over everything. Strategies she could bring up to the rest of the Scoobies to try and flush out the Trio and what to do with them when they eventually caught them. It was only a matter of time after all, they were just three nerdy college boys and she had taken down master vampires and gods. She was going to have to deal with Dawn too. As tempted as she was to try and sweep this under the rug, it directly involved Anya, who wasn’t going take this laying down. She’d never had to discipline anyone before, and she cursed Dawn for making her life difficult…well even more difficult. 

Finally, the end of her shift came. Toting a hefty bag of the fisherman’s special with cheese she made her way home. She’d drop the food off to Dawn and make her way over to the graveyard for a late-night patrol. Who needed sleep anyways? Not Buffy! She would make sure to avoid Restfield like the plague. She wasn’t sure how far out Spike was able to sense her, being a Master vampire his tendrils probably reached out far beyond the fledges she was used to fighting and she didn’t want to take any chances tonight. Instead she decided to patrol the section far away from here, where were mom was buried. 

She doubted there was going to be any newcomers, as she’d spent a lot more time in this particular part of Sunnydale’s great sprawling graveyards, but it was the only way to still be with her mom. Some nights she would just curl up there and sleep with her, completely unfazed with the thought that any demons or vamps lurking about could attack her while she slept. And as much as she hated the warring feelings that she had about her pain in the ass punk vampire, she knew she could trust him to patrol whatever places she didn’t get to and take care of any problems. He’d certainly picked up her slack over the past couple of weeks. He was good at that. 

She made it to Revello drive in no time. Making her was up the porch steps she could hear from the door that the television was on. That was strange…the door was unlocked.   
“I’m home” She grumbled, passing through the door and setting her hat on the bannister. 

No reply

She turned the corner, expecting Willow and Dawn to be all cuddled up on the couch together, empty chip bags and ice cream cartons spread between them, perhaps passed out while watching another chick flick. But there was no one there.   
“Dawn” She called out, wandering through the seemingly empty house, each room more silent then the last. She reached the kitchen, eyes flicking to the back door, assessing everything and half expecting him to stride through the door. But there was nothing, no tinglies, no high-pitched squeals or slamming doors or cocky banter, just sweet silence. She set the bag of food down on the island, the bag already puddling with grease in one corner. Maybe they were upstairs in Willow’s room. 

Groaning with the thought of moving up the steps, she forced herself to move from her spot of leaning against the counter and shambled her way to the bottom of the endless stairs and wondered why they didn’t install escalators in residential houses.   
“Dawn” She called weakly. She turned the corner and made her way down the hall to her sister room. The door was wide open and when she poked her head in, there weren’t any obvious signs that she had been in here recently.   
“Dawn?” Still silence greeted her. She should have been worried. The front door had been unlocked, no one was answering her, and something defiantly seemed up, though she couldn’t put her finger on it.   
She had enough enemies including the Trio and any other opportunistic chump who thought they could pull one over on the Slayer, so it wasn’t completely impossible that someone or something had invaded her home. At least vamps were out of the question, she just had to deal with the one vampire who still had access. 

Before she headed back upstairs she placed a quick call to Janice’s house, asking her mom sweetly if Dawn was over there or if she had seen her recently and of course the answer was no. She hadn’t been over in days now. Great.   
She had now checked the entirety of the house, cursing up a storm the entire time. She hastily made her way back up the stairs, heavy footfalls echoing through the stillness of the house as she made her way into Willow’s room. The witch was laying sprawled out on the bed, fast asleep with thick books, papers, her laptop and a variety of colored highlighters strewn all around her.   
A fury ran through her. Lately things like this seemed to be happening more and more frequently and all of them seemed to be happening around the red head.   
“Will” She called.   
Nothing. Not even a twitch. She sighed in exasperation. Striding over now with no intention to be nice, she grabbed ahold of the girl’s shoulder and started jerking on her.   
“Will” She gritted out  
The witch jostled awake, a deep gasp coming from her throat and eyes wide with panic. She reached out to grab for her attacker and latching onto Buffy’s arm.   
“Oh Buffy. It’s you. I guess I fell asleep taking notes. Are you home from work already? Is it that late?”  
“Yeah Will, it’s that late. But more importantly, where the hell is Dawn?  
She ground out, wrenching her arm away from Willow’s grip and crossing them over her chest. She was not liking the look of confusion that her best friend wore. 

“Dawnie? She’s downstairs watching TV isn’t she? She was down there? Or…or she’s in her room?  
“No Willow, she’s not. I can’t find her anywhere. I thought you were watching her”  
“I was. I was…And then I came up here to do some homework and Dawn said she was just gonna watch some tv and…and..I’m sorry Buffy, I’m sorry. We’ll find her”  
She fumbled out of her bed, grabbing her jacket and sliding it over her pj’s and hurrying out of the room.   
Buffy followed her.   
“For god sakes Will. After what happened a couple days ago, and you think it’s alright to not watch her for even a minute!? I mean who know where she might have run off to!”  
“Buffy I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I thought…”  
“No you didn’t think. That’s the problem. No one is thinking. No one is doing anything! Just me…as usual”  
“Buffy I…”  
She had that wide-eyed gaping fish look. She’d seen it a million times before, anytime they’d ever gotten into trouble. Both her and Xander did it. But the faces Willow made no longer made her smile or brought the word cute to mind as they had in the past. Now they invoked feelings of anger and unreliability, a naivety that should have been gone a long time ago because they were fighting even harder enemies now. If her two deaths had made any point that things were getting worse, it hadn’t seemed to settle with any of her friends. The front door had been unlocked for fucks sake!  
“Willow…I don’t wanna hear it alright? I’ve had a shitty day and now my sister is missing…again. What I need you to do is call Xander and Anya and get them here. Tell them what’s going on and get them looking for her.  
“Janice!” Willow suddenly exclaimed face alight. “She’s probably at Janice’s! Buffy you must have forgotten that she was going over after dinner today”  
“No, I didn’t. I already called over there. Janice’s mom wasn’t expecting Dawn today and she hasn’t seen her  
“I’ll call them right now. We’ll find her Buffy” She stopped in her room, Willow hovering over her shoulder as she unabashedly tossed off her work uniform, complete with grease stains and gross smells and changed into a black tank top, grey cardigan, leggings and pair of solid running shoes.   
“Buffy…what are you gonna do?” Willow’s meek little voice said from behind her as she hung in the doorway.   
She sighed  
“I’m gonna go to Restfield. Get Spike to help me look for her”  
“Is that’s such a good idea? I mean Spike…he’s”  
“Will. I don’t have time to debate this. He may be a giant pain in my ass” In more ways than one “But he’s fast, he knows his way around the city and he’d got that creepy vampire smelly thing. He can find her the fastest, or at least get an idea of where she’s going” She hated to admit it, because hello, Slayer working with a vampire was the more upside down thing she’d ever heard of…but there were some major advantages to having a vampire on her side. The increased senses for one, not to mention he was the strongest fighter she knew. And although she really really hated to admit it, he was the most loyal ally she had. If there was a problem or a fight going down, he was always going to be there in thick of the fray covering her left. 

“Well if you think it’s a good idea. You’re the Slayer after all. Just be careful out there. He may have that chip but..”  
“I got it Will” She cut her off “Just…call them. And keep me posted. I want to know the second anyone hears anything or when she gets back home”  
“Right. Can do”  
As she turned to leave the caught the flurried movements of Willow with her hand on the house phone, little fingers punching buttons. It would have been nostalgic if it was anything other than her little sister being missing. A nod to the good ole days. 

She flew down the stairs, grabbed a stake from the table and flung herself out the door and down the street in a matter of seconds. As soon as her feet hit the pavement she broke into a run and almost immediately she could feel some of the tension work its way off. She loved the way her muscles flexed and lessened as she forced them to work under such stressful conditions. Within seconds she was tearing out of her neighborhood and down the block. Only a few more to go before she was at the iron wrought gate that marked the beginning of the vast expanse of land dedicated to the dead. And undead. One. Two. Breathe. Three. Four. Breath in, breath out. Abduction. Pushing herself forward, arms tucked in tight, sprinting at breakneck speed. Adduction. Head down, loose hair whipping around. Turn the corner here. She lived for the sound of shoes slapping against the cold asphalt. 

There was the gate. Her legs were burning, lactic acid building up, but these were the moments that she lived for. She was free. She was the wind. While she was running she felt the elation brought on by the adrenaline coursing through her entire body, the need to complete a task. This was her purpose. At the moment it didn’t matter that all of these things were weighing down on her, it was just her and the hard thump of her heart and the sweat dripping down her back. There was almost no one that could keep up with her when she was running at full speed like this. 

Just Spike. She knew that he had the build, the stamina, the power to be able to keep up with her. Hell, maybe he could even beat her, outrun her. He was predatory, made to hunt and chase and run when he needed. Not like she’d ever had a footrace with him, although the challenge that he posed excited her. The Slayer craved the power of an equal. A partner. 

By the time she made it to his crypt she was covered in sweat and her heart was pounding. She wasn’t surprised that when she went to throw open the door, like the hundreds of times before, that he was already pushing his way out. He wore a smirk on his face, talking as he exited  
“Could hear your heartbeat from nearly a mile away, what’s got you all worked up?” A salacious grin gracing his face, but as soon as his eyes met hers his expression changed instantly.   
“What’s wrong?” His voice dropping to that concerned tone she had heard before, after she had found out her mom was going to the hospital and she was having a serious case of déjà vu here, the only thing missing was the shotgun. 

She stood for a moment, just trying to catch her breath, stretching and wondering why in the hell he hadn’t made some kind of dirty joke like she was expecting. She was so ready to bop him in the nose.   
“It’s Dawn” She heard herself say, voice trembling “She’s…” She didn’t fail to notice the way he went ramrod straight at the mention of her little sister. She couldn’t understand the nature of his affection, but for whatever reason he had taken to her, protected her with everything he had, to the point of violent torture in fact.   
“What’s wrong with the Bit?” He pressed, lighting up a cigarette with a fluid flourish.   
“She’s missing. Willow was supposed to be watching her and fell asleep. She’s been gone for who knows how long now and no one has a clue where she is. And after the other night…” She trailed off  
“Don’t worry luv. We’ll find her. Can’t have gone far. Can ask around”  
“Spike” She growled out with a frustrated sigh “Just this one time. One. Time. I’m going ask you to do that creepy thing where you can smell people alright? Please? I need to find her faster than other more traditional methods are capable of and you’re my best shot”  
For a split second she saw the argument on his face, the hard lines that appeared when his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw ticked, ready to fire some angry retort back at her, but then he resigned with a sigh, bit back whatever he was going to say, face not quite relaxing but he certainly didn’t look angry anymore.   
“Yeah alright. But I want your bloody word that I’m not going to have to reset my nose again after this little stunt”   
She huffed  
“Yeah. Fine. Whatever. Just make with the creepy sniffing” She dug into her pocket and pulled out a scarf. “Here. Do you need..?”  
“Not a bloody dog. Can pick up her scent without that. For Christ sakes I can scent any one of you bloody Scoobies. But you and the NIblet are the only ones I care about enough”

A flare of something went through her. That same feeling when she looked upon him in his crypt after he’d gotten tortured, when she realized just what he had done for her and her sister. But instead she sneered. She couldn’t let her true feelings show through right now, not when she had a mission. The mission is what mattered.   
“The only thing you care about is yourself”  
Those eyes, a beautiful blue that she’d never admit to. Flashed with a hurt she tried so hard to convince herself wasn’t there, something he wasn’t capable of and he scoffed.   
“Your truly off your bird if you believe that load of rubbish. I love you Buffy. You and the Bit. Shame on you” He murmured with a noticeably hurt tone, turning his back. 

He only took a few moments to sniff the air before turning towards the west, away from Restfield and towards the town of Sunnydale.   
“Follow me” He snarled and stormed off in front of her, leather whipping around him as he walked briskly away from her.   
She groaned and followed right behind.   
He may be useful now, but gods was he annoying as all hell. His mercurial nature was exhausting, going from cool to pervy to hurt and pissed all within a few seconds. It was so hard to keep up.   
Fuck how she just wanted to lay back in her pajamas and eat some ice cream. She was so…exhausted with all of these things that were piling up around her. She just needed to find her sister, lay into her, ground her for a week and then she could go to sleep. 

He led her through the outskirts of the city, occasionally stopping to visibly intake a great lungful’s of air before readjusting his route and continuing on. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

At one point during their walk he slowed enough that she was walking right beside him. He took in her appearance, not quite ragged but far from the put together posh standards she normally held herself to. She wasn’t even wearing one of her flowing skirts or skintight numbers that he had grown used to seeing. Not that she still didn’t look as hot as ever, the woman would look sexy in anything she ever wore. But the togs she was wearing were wrinkled, disheveled, and smelled like the should have been washed nights ago. Though with the circumstances of Dawn’s disappearance it made sense that things were rushed. 

But it wasn’t just tonight that she exuded this aura of complete exhaustion and lack of care. He’d seen it so much since her return from her grave. The girl wasn’t as witty, bouncy and happy as she had been before. That sparkle that lit up her emerald eyes had extinguished and left behind a dullness in her eyes, unfocused and uncaring. Her apathetic nature was so uncharacteristic of her, the way she’d shut down and shied away from even her beloved friends. Even the Niblet had been turned a blind eye to. It was no wonder the girl had taken to stealing for attention. For someone considered to be an evil soulless thing, incapable of feeling love, his heart broke at the sight of her like this. 

Even if the bitch was nauseatingly righteous, pulling the world saving act and trying to turn herself in for killing a girl who was already dead, it was her holier than thou righteous nature that partly made up who she was as a person. That and her sarcasm, terrible quips, loyalty and her heart of gold. Yes. He was addicted to her physically, had been since the day he’d seen her. The way she fought was art in itself, flowing with power. He couldn’t begin to count the number of nights he wanked off to the girl, replaying the way they danced together, dreaming of what she’d be like in the other kind of dance. There was something incredibly sexy about a small women who could take down a bloke twice her own size. It was no use denying that he had a type. Drusilla had been like that too, willowy and slender, but with the ferocity of a dark panther. His lethal black beauty. 

He wasn’t like that tin soldier she’d shacked up with, unable to wrap his pathetic mortal mind around the fact that it was okay for a women to be stronger than he was. He surmised it was the reason that up until him it was the reason the poor girl had only been exposed to pure basics of sex. The past few weeks had been an utter delight in that regard. Getting the girl to come out of her shell a little bit, exploring her gorgeous little body, all suntanned and soft curves and lean hard muscle. Her perky little tits and hot tight cunt that drove him completely barmy to the point that he was craving her like a junkie craving his next fix. 

She came to him, took exactly what she wanted of him and then she left, and he always let her. He was selfish he knew, wasn’t going to try and deny that one. He knew that the Slayer wasn’t always quite there when she showed up, that a majority of the time the girl was on autopilot and looking for a few hours of just being able to feel something. She’d sung her piece about that  
This isn’t real, but I just want to feel   
That was what she had sung right? And what had he sang back to her?  
You can make me feel  
Not like she bloody listened anyways, but it still remained the truth. She’d wormed her way into his head and heart way before any chip had been put there. But who was he to deny himself something that in turn he knew would bring them mutual pleasure. No matter how much she tried to deny him or how he made her feel, during their time together he knew she felt it. It was the only time he saw her, that shining piece of her that recently had been buried under all the regret and shame and disregard for the world around her. 

It came out to play during their insatiable carnal desire, through the new games he played with her and when she took complete control of him, making him submit completely to her will. He knew if she would just let him love her, treat her the way she should be treated, like a queen, that if she let him make love to her the way he wanted that he could maybe bring that piece out for good. But she wouldn’t let herself stoop that low. She’d spend all night with him, have him twelve ways to Sunday and cum so hard that she’d pass out, but she’d never let him have that part of her. So, he took everything he could from her and cherished what he got. The sights of her glorious body, the sounds she made when wild abandonment took her over and she let herself loose just to feel. The smells of her arousal, sweet and musky and unique only to her and he stashed all of them away. He took them all in so that he could remember exactly what it was like because he knew that every time she stormed from his crypt it might be the last. 

He glanced at her in his peripherals, the way her gait didn’t have as much of a bounce in it as she dully walked beside him. He could smell the fear on her, she was worried for her sister at least, but she didn’t have her usual drive to find the girl. He also didn’t fail to miss the smells of griddled meat, burnt grease and the lack of vanilla that settled around her like a sweet cloud. Her heartbeat was irregular, thumping wildly one moment and a mere nervous pitter patter the next. Her body was tired, needed rest that he knew she wasn’t getting, and she was so anxious, so tightly wound that he could nearly feel her body ready to snap. There may have actually been some legitimate concern for the next bloke that even looked at her funny, especially considering she had two very sharp stakes concealed with her now. 

When he’d come in to see her earlier, he only wanted to offer her a way to relax for the night. And yeah, he wasn’t being completely honest when he said he wasn’t there to see if she wanted to go a round in the back while she was on break, but really it was for her benefit. Getting off was a great to relax. Offering dosh was just another way he thought to help her out. He was even willing to swallow his pride and call Peaches about it because he’d do anything for the girl. 

He fiddled with the container in his pocket, his peace offering, his way of helping her to relax. Even if it was only for a few hours. Not like it could hurt her. He wasn’t offering up to do some smack or E or chase the bloody dragon, just a little bit of Maryjane to mellow her out a little bit, maybe bring out a few of those girlish giggles or to get her eating something. And if she did wind up wanting to fuck, a very profound experience in his personal opinion, well that was fine too. 

But she hadn’t even let him bring it up, just shut him down immediately with that judgmental look on her face. The bitch. So, for now he walked with her in silence, scenting the air every once in a while to keep the Niblet’s scent fresh as he followed it away from Sunnydale and out towards the opposite edge of town. When they started nearing the other side of the city limits, he could practically feel her vibrating with nervous energy beside him.  
“Slayer…” He started  
“Don’t. Unless its about Dawn, I don’t want to hear it right now” She growled and took off ahead again. 

He huffed.   
Right. Just find the kid sister so that they could go back to their merry little house and she go back to being a self-imploding bitch and the Bit was free to storm out again or find some worse way to make her sister suffer. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that Dawn’s scent led them to the bus station of the edge of town. That familiar Summers smell, the swirl of flowery bath gel and the underlying sweetness of her virgin blood that marked her uniquely was strongest here in front of the ticket window and became weaker after that. He turned to Buffy and found those green eyes of hers still hauntingly dazed, like they had accepted the fate laid out before them. There was no fight in there whatsoever. 

“Oh come on now Slayer. The Bit has hopped a bus to who knows where and your just gonna stand here like that? Where’s the demanding questions and frightful interrogations?  
But she just dropped her head and rubbed her temples, digging deep circles into her creased brown and let out a frustrated whine. Her muscles were locked tight and there was no mistaking the smell of salt coming from her now.   
“I don’t need this” He heard her mumble under her breath, barely a whisper as if she’d forgotten that he could hear her if she was halfway across the parking lot.   
“Doesn’t she know she’s going to get taken away if she keeps pulling stunts like this? I can’t stop them from taking her. Though clearly she wants to get away from me if she pulled a stunt like this”  
“Buffy..luv”  
“Stop…calling me that. I’m not your love. I’m not your anything. Can you keep tracking her or not” She yelled, eyes blazing.   
Yes. That’s what he wanted to see. Even if she was angry and raining down blows down on him. He could take anything she gave him. At least she was feeling something.   
“It’ll be tougher. Still have traces of her but they’re fading fast. Can tell she’d headed north”  
“LA” She whispered “She’s heading towards LA”  
“Not to Peaches I hope. Damn good that’s gonna do her” He grumbled.   
“Spike. Seriously with the jealous thing? Shut the hell up. Angel might actually be helpful here. He’ll turn her right back around”

She was right of course, but he’d never admit it. He didn’t want her to fall back into the security of that git’s arms. Not when he couldn’t love her back properly the way she deserved. He could never worship her like the queen she was. One stunt like that would be all it took for that girly look to come back to her eyes and she’d end up with her honey bear. Once again leaving dear sweet William in the dust and didn’t that just dredge up painful memories of Angelus buried balls deep in the love of his life, his wicked little plum in a show of mutual pleasure. Hurt and angry that either one of them could do something like that to hurt him. He was snapped out of the self-pity that was his past when he heard her cellphone ring.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Please tell me you have good news” Buffy groaned into the small thing.   
The timid voice on the other side spoke up and stuttered her reply.   
“Well….we checked everywhere we could think of. The graveyard, her other friend’s house, the Bronze, but still no Dawnie”  
“Willow we know she’s moving out of the city. Spike tracked her to the bus station, said it’s likely that she’d heading towards LA. Has anyone tried her cell?  
“Xander did. We figured she might be more open to answering a call from him. Her phone is on at least but she didn’t pick up. Buffy, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I promise we’re gonna do anything we can to get her back safe and sound”  
There went PJ’s and ice cream. Seemed like she was going to have to make a drive to LA and back tonight. She really wasn’t looking forward to that, especially because the only person she knew with a car other than Xander was Spike. And she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep on the drive up with her anxiety through the roof. She had some idea where her sister would go, but nothing was certain. She was certainly Tara around right about now; it would go much faster if they could just use a locator spell.   
Think Buffy, think. How can we find her fast without magic?  
As mad and frustrated as she was with Willow, she was till proud of her for the work she’d been doing so far to prove that she didn’t need magics. Her love for Tara was stronger than her want to keep practicing, no matter how inconvenience it was. And boy, was it inconvenience tonight.   
“I don’t want to force you do magic. You’ve been doing so good. Is there any way you can use your tech stuff to find her? Spike got us this far, but it seems even vampire senses have their limits”  
She heard the scoff behind her and rolled her eyes. For someone who had been around as long as he, he could still act so incredibly childish sometimes. Him and Angel. 

“I could totally do that! A little GPS triangulation using her cell phone just like in the detective shows!” He voice got that excited nerdy edge it took whenever she got super pumped about something related to schoolwork.  
There was a pause and she heard muffled chatter on the other side. She turned to glance at the vamp beside her who was currently fiddling with his lighter between taking long drags of his Morley’s. It was almost endearing, this human gesture of the inability to sit still. Whether it was from boredom or anxiousness she wasn’t sure but the repetitive movements, although slightly irritating, were oddly comforting. She must have been more exhausted then she thought if her mind was making the evil bloodsucking demon beside her more human. 

“Buffy. Xander and I talked it over. Do you…would you let us drive up to get her? It’s the least we can do after all. Since it’s my fault. And Dawn might be less fighty if it’s the two of us who are still angry….but not older sister Slayer angry. I could even ask Tara along” She said pausing “Dawn really trusts Tara after all”

Would that be better? Shouldn’t she the older sister go out and get her younger sister? Wasn’t it the responsibility as an adult to give up everything, her night, her PJ’s and ice cream, her sleep to go and get Dawn?  
She felt a light touch on her shoulder and immediately shook it off, knowing what he was trying to do and stepped away from the boundaryless vampire.   
The war raged on in her head. She was tired of making the calls. Tired of being put in this position in the first place. She knew it was selfish but she both wanted Willow to take accountability for her actions and simultaneously let someone else take control of the situation. Yet she still found herself making excuses.  
“Wouldn’t Xander be out too late? He has to be at the site early tomorrow doesn’t he?  
A second later came a response from a much lower voice.   
“Buff, don’t worry about me. I have plenty of guys that can cover me…I know you. I know you’re under a lot of stress right now. And I know our gonna fight me about this. But I think you should take the night off. Will and I will go up and get her, bring her back, take her for the night. Just…try and relax. This is something regular non-super powered humans can do. It’s the least we can do for you” He chuckled to himself. “And besides, it’s not like I haven’t done this before…although not so much with the teenager girl and very much with my Uncle Roy but ya know…kinda the same thing”  
He was being jokey. She knew Xander well enough by now. He used his comedy as a shield against all the tension. She both hated and appreciated that light heartedness because shew he was just as worried about the young Summers girl but was ready to pull the tough guy act like he had time and time and time before. 

Was this really okay? Was it really alright for her to be the one and not handle this? She was the adult here, the guardian and yet her view of justice and the world was collapsing further and further every day. She just wanted to be taken care of.  
“Okay” She finally whispered  
“Okay?” Xander repeated, coaxing her  
“Yeah…you guys are probably right. If I go storming in there with major tudage and a license to kill we could have a bigger problem. I think it’s probably best if I stay here and chill out a little bit. I think she likes you guys better anyway” She admitted guiltily.   
She heard a growl come from the platinum vampire who was fucking pouting at her.   
“Oh hush” She hissed, swatting him away. Of course she was getting the jealous vampire now too.   
She heard the phone switch over again.   
“Buffy no…no no that’s not true at all! Dawnie knows you love her, and she loves you too. Everything has just been…  
“Wrong” Buffy finished with a long sigh.  
“Well it’s kinda wonky I admit. But thigs will get better soon”  
“And what if they don’t Will? What happens if Dawn still gets taken away from me and I still lose the house and everything of mom’s…” She was nearly crying now, could feel the tears prickling and her throat tighten. If she was lone right now she’d cry her eyes out, get it out of her system. But of course she wasn’t alone. This overwhelming sadness, the void that radiated from her chest, that sucked everything else into it, it was growing larger by the day. The only time that it stopped its infinite expansion…  
She turned to Spike, who wore this look of concern in those steel blue eyes, full lips pulled back into a tiny frown. His jacket hung open loosely, showing off his signature tight black tee and a nice silk button up that he’d be taking to lately. His silver buckle caught her eye and she found eyes roaming over that lean body, her body stirring against her mind’s will at the thought of the beautiful sculpted muscle underneath. How it twitched and flexed and stretched when he was in motion. That buckle, placed like a barrier over the hard steel monster within. Gods why was she thinking about this right now? How wrong was it that one minute she looked at him in disdain, such hatred for herself and for her actions and the next she was looking at him like the hottie he was, mind forgetting who and exactly what he was in favor of pleasing her body. 

Probably because the weight of the world was pressing down on her. She just wanted that feeling of climbing higher and higher instead. And oh would he be able to give it to her, again and again and again.   
“It will. We won’t let all the badness win Buffy. You’ll see, everything will be alright. Xander, me, Tara, Anya…we’re all here for you. Always have been, always will be”  
Her pep talk did little, but it was enough for now.   
“Do it. Keep my posted” She said with a resigned sigh and closed the phone. She would trust in her friends with her only remaining family and maybe…she cast a sideways glance to the platinum vamp.   
“So…Scoobies going to fetch the Bit? Up for a patrol then? Or is it past the Slayer’s beddy bye?  
She didn’t exactly want to deal with the obnoxious mouth attached to that gorgeous Adonis body, not that the mouth itself wasn’t soft and pretty and pink. She wanted what lay behind those full bowed lips, that wicked tongue. Crude yes, disgusting absolutely, delightful? Oh gods yes it was. Why did it have to belong to a man so evil, so perverse and so utterly against her nature?

She sighed a long heavy sigh. It looked like she had the night free now while her friends played the loving guardians. Her decisions weighed heavily on her mind, almost had her calling Will back to her shed made a stupid mistake and that she should be the one to go. Every time she convinced herself that she’d done the right thing that nagging voice in the back of her head, which had grown louder since her returned to the land of the living, told her to do the opposite. It was so loud in here, a cacophony of sound and voices all telling her to do and saying different things. So call her crazy and wrong but it was always that silky English voice, rich and sexy that managed to call out to her own inner demon and soothe it. 

She tentatively met his gaze knowing that as soon as she opened her mouth he was going to get that shit eating grin and cocky attitude that always appeared when she showed up.   
“We should hit a quick patrol yeah…and then let’s go back to your crypt”  
She was dreading that grin, but it never came. Instead, a small grin graced his face, his lips pulled up in a half smile  
“Right then luv. Where’d you wanna go. Haven’t been down to Shadyhill as of late”

Was he for real right now? Why was it then when she completely expected him to act one way and was ready to go toe to toe with him he did the complete opposite In this moment she couldn’t decide whether she loved or hated how unpredictable he was. He was certainly being agreeable, which felt really good right now. Now when everything else around her was not so very agreeable.   
“Yeah sounds good”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
He could have believed that the Slayer had agreed to go patrolling with him without a fight. It wasn’t completely unheard of that she would turn him away when he asked (or just showed up) to help her clear out some the fledges that seemed to pop out of the ground like daisies. He knew it was mostly a way to work out her anger, frustration and that infinite sadness that she’d locked away tight since her return. 

The others had only recently been made aware of her plight whereas he had known almost from the get-go that something about her wasn’t quite the same. What kind of surprised him was her willingness to come back to his crypt afterwards, which could really only lead to one thing. She certainly wasn’t coming over to watch the telly with him, heaven forbid the bitch took interest in Passions or The Pistols. What had utterly floored him was how she had given up control of a situation that directly involved Dawn. Regardless of how Buffy felt about herself right now, Dawn was always her first priority. The fact that she willingly agreed to a situation, especially after the events of the other night, indicated to him that she was far beyond the emotional level he thought her to be at. The other within him wailed and wept for the atrocities cast upon a fair maiden such as herself and wished to offer her flowing prose and melodies so sweet that the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks would disappear completely. 

Poor naïve sod. He’d tried again and again to appeal to her this way, offering comfort and a shoulder to cry on, but seeing as she didn’t believe he was capable of it without an ulterior motive she would up and leave twice as fast. He’d just resorted to playing up the type of man she thought he was so that maybe she’d stay a little longer. He played it off like an evil soulless thing, one who taunted her, pushed her, took her anger and frustration and threw it back at her twice as strong because he knew she would at least respond to that. She swelled with it. Took it and made it her own and Christ was it glorious the way she used it during their complicated fucking. The demon within reveled in it, in her, a mate who was just as intense, volatile and who could handle when he pushed back and gave everything he had. 

Physically she was on his level, probably stronger if he was being completely honest and to a lesser man it would have been enough for them to run. Captain Carboard had. But he craved it. Her strength, and to an extent her misery because when let her take it all out on him, it drew away some of those negative feelings from her. She poured them out through her blood, sweat and the delicious ambrosia that flowed from her cunt. It made her spicy and all the more intoxicating. He’d be drunk on the taste of her until he dusted. He took her misery, soaked it up like some kind of sponge, fed it to the demon and let him swallow it whole to keep him content. And for a few moments after he had managed to suck all of it away, she was left in a content kind of mood and was open to more than just desperate rutting that left holes in the furniture and claw marks in his back. 

Those were the moments that he lived for now a days. He had been content at first in just having the Slayer, her fire and salt. But true to his selfish nature, he’d learned quickly he wanted more. The hopeless poet, the desperate romantic buried just below the surface who was born in gentler times of lords and ladies craved the softness of the girl.   
As they strode through the desolate graveyard he watched her movements, still stiff and unenergetic, barely ready for a right. Not that they’d seen anything worth fighting anyways. 

He fiddled with the container in his pocket again. He knew that once he even brought up that she’d probably pop him in the nose and haughtily walk away like always, but he doubted he would ever have another opportunity like this. She’d already agreed to come back with him in a way that didn’t involve her screaming and/or slamming his door open. And her mates out of town for the night was just too convenient. 

It certainly wasn’t hard to get a hold of in this town. If California was good for anything, and it really wasn’t, it was good for its quality of ganja. All that warm liquid death, that constant sunshine, lack of rain and fertile soil made some of the most potent buds that he’d come to possess. He’d been around for a while now sampling what each country had to offer as he and Dru traveled the globe. He noticed that quality had been significantly improving as the years went on. The stuff he’d had back in the 70s when flower people were a thing and Woodstock was the place to be was absolute shite compared to what was being grown now. Though he found nothing beat the flowers that were being grown in the Middle East. Bloody hell that was the good stuff. But seeing how he was on the wrong side of the pond now, good ole SoCo was one of the best placed to obtain something with a real kick. 

Unsurprisingly, demons loved the bloody stuff and even more unsurprisingly, he’d stolen it off the corpse of a fledge when he’d smelled it from nearly a mile away and ripped the poor sod’s head clean off his shoulders. He was surprised that Buffy hadn’t smelled it sooner with the way it reeked in that pleasant sort of earthy odor that it had. Course, he would be surprised if the chit was just blind to it because she’d ever done it before, let alone known was it smelled like. He wasn’t sure what her mates back at her old school in LA were like, but it wasn’t like The Whelp or Red were buying any dime bags. Wolf boy might have been the only one he could think of partaking in a toke or two. 

“God this is lame” He heard her irritated voice hiss out and his attention snapped to her.   
She was leaning casually up against a headstone, arms crossed over her chest and pouting.  
Didn’t she know that was enough to drive him wild? Hell, his prick was already way ahead of his brain, jumping behind his zipper at the thought of those pouty lips wrapped around him. He’d only been lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that particular pleasure a few times.   
“You’ve been at it a lot pet. No wonder its dead out here”  
“But it’s all hellmouthy and I’m not even getting the littlest of tingles” She frowned, kicking at the solid dirt.   
“Can guarantee if we head back now you’ll be feelin all sorts of tinglies”   
“Eww Spike” She spoke around a disgusted sneer, but he knew the truth of it. Could hear her heartbeat fluttering in response and caught the scent of her arousal. She always played this game, but she could never fool him.   
“Don’t need to play up the act luv. None of the Scoobies are here to see what trouble you’re getting into…or getting into you” He leered  
“Anya is still here” She hissed, a flush settling over her face.   
“Anya…is still too busy worrying about her wedding that’s in two weeks, and if I’m not mistake, hasn’t always been on your go-to list anyways. And she’d be the least likely to care if anyone were to find out anyways”  
“Uggh. There will be no finding out. Not a-one” She groaned

He hated that her words hurt so much. That every opportunity she threw it in his face that this thing between them meant nothing to her when it meant everything and more to him.   
“Right. No finding out. So then perhaps you’d be up for trying something new. You know, if they won’t find out anyways”  
If her eyebrow could go any higher it would fly off her beautiful fucking face.   
“Something new that requires no one else being here. Sounds awfully suspicious of you Spike. Pleaaase tell me it’s something stake worthy”  
“Most fun things in life are” He whispered sinfully, curling his tongue behind his teeth and closing in on her.   
“Really not in the mood for you to be all cryptic. I’ve had up to my ears in cryptic avoidy vampires. So just come out with it so I can decided whether I’m going home with a pile of dust or not”  
“I’m touched you’d bring my ashes home pet Maybe put me in a nice urn?. Would have thought you’d leave em lying there”  
“Spike” She ground out venomously “Get on with it”

“Right…have you ever smoked before Slayer?”  
The expression on her face was priceless. It was clear that it was not at all what she was expecting to hear, and he was sure that she’d have caught a while swarm of flies with the way her jaw was agape.   
“Like…cigarettes?...you’re not talking about cigarettes are you?  
“Cannabis”  
The initial shock had drained from her face as understanding dawned  
“Uh well...once. When I was back at Hemery. My friends and I all tried it one day”  
“And? What was your verdict?”  
She shrugged  
“It was alright I guess. It was kinda gross tasting and hurt my throat and made me cough a lot. I didn’t really like smoking it that much and I don’t think I got enough to affect me that much”  
He paused forcing the words from his head to his lips.   
“Alright enough to give it another go?” He coaxed gently  
Christ she was adorable the way she was trying to figure him out, her eyebrows furrowed and her pretty pink lips scrunched up.   
“Are you….are you offering me drugs right now? Mind altering drugs. Mind altering illegal drugs. You do realize that this a fully stakeable offense right?”   
“Just because you’re the judge, jury and executioner for all things supernatural doesn’t make you an agent of human law. Not to mention, cannabis is hardly worth putting someone in jail for…or turning them to dust. It’s a bloody plant Slayer and damned good one at that. I challenge you to give me one good reason to stake me over offering you a little Maryjane.   
She crossed her arms in defiance  
“How about that it’s a gateway drug?”  
He balked  
“A gateway to what? Snack food consumption? That’s a load of bollocks that is” He quickly lit up a cigarette.   
“That whole thing was brought about by your president Regan as a way to eliminate the production, distribution and consumption of drugs. But all it really did was fill your penitentiary systems with people charged for smoking a little flower and now your government is paying billions of dollars to house these people who are otherwise contributing members of society and uses them for mass free labor” He ranted “You’ve got a lot more people locked up over a natural plant that makes you giggle and pick up a few grams than those shootin up heroin and engaging in violent crime” He took another long drag. “And studies have shown that most people who smoke it don’t go onto the harder stuff anyways. It’s just easy to get ahold of is all.   
“I…but…illegal!” She nearly shouted at him  
“Yeah…because hemp was being used as a productive source of fibers for paper and other goods and some wealthy chap didn’t like that it was taking away his business and called for it to be made illegal. The whole bloody plant Slayer! Which is brilliant for more than just its flowers by the way. Rope, clothing, food, bioplastics, paper, biofuel…even bloody shoes Slayer” He couldn’t help but smirk at the lost look in her eye as she desperately tried to fight him. Guess being around for over a century had its perks in terms of the knowledge he’d picked up along the way.   
“But…drug?”  
“Yeah I guess, but it’s just the female flowering buds luv. The rest is as clean as a pennywhistle. And not all of it is psychoactive” He sighed finishing off his fag and grinded it under the heavy heel of his boot. “Could go into great detail about the finer points of it, but I think I’ve made my case pet”  
“Well how about I’m the Slayer. I can’t be doing drugs while I’m on the job! What if someone found out?  
“Worried a demon is going to see you spaced out and chatty? I’ll just kill em pet. Nothing to worry your pretty little head over. We go to my crypt, like you said, we stay in all night. Mums the word”  
She opened and closed her mouth a few times. It reminded him of a fish gasping for air, but he decided that comparison best be left unsaid.   
“My friends” She whispered  
He stepped in closer to her, hips flush with hers  
“Won’t find out, Said yourself no one will be around. It’ll wear off before you can see them again, promise you that. I’ve been around a long time luv, been all over the world, had my fair share of anything you can think of. Know what I’m doing”  
“Spike, I dunno if you’ve noticed lately…but your dead.   
He scoffed and rolled his eyes  
“You probably wouldn’t die from an overdose of anything that’s out there. You don’t have a heart that can stop or a liver that can fail. You can’t die from an overdose. Me? Very small, very human girl. Very much with the easy dying. And I’ve already played that scene twice”  
“Undead pet” He countered “There is a difference. But besides that….I suppose that since your smaller you may be impacted more but regardless of that there’s never been a case of someone dying from smoking cannabis…and above all else..”   
He pressed himself closer to her, listening to her breath hitch as he placed a curled finger under her chin to tilt her head and meet his gaze.   
“I’d never do anything to hurt you Buffy. I’m so bloody deep for you that it nearly kills me. I love you. Know you don’t like hearing it but it’s the soddin truth. Wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Couldn’t kill you even if I tried. Not anymore” He confessed softly  
Her face softened a bit, those big green eyes of hers usually harsh and violent seemed almost accepting.  
“Why?” The word coming out as barely a whisper  
“Why what?”  
“Why do you suggest smoking? How is this going to help me?

He stroked her cheek gently, thumbing her plush bottom lip.   
“Well for one, it’ll be good for your nerves. I don’t even have to look at you to tell your more stressed than usual”  
“Lemme guess” She cut in “You can smell me?”  
“Mmm. Body releases all sorts of lovely little things  
“So gross. You have to know that don’t you?”  
“Doesn’t seem to be a problem when I’m using it to your advantage, like edging you for hours so that when you come its earth shattering. Or finding runaway kid sister”  
“W..well that’s because…”  
He cut her off  
“Buffy I know that you don’t like me” He said with a harsh whisper “Or trust me. I’m not an idiot. I know you won’t believe me when I tell you that I’ve changed. That I’m looking out for you. But despite whatever it is that you tell yourself to make this seem less real to you it’s very much real to me…and I’m not heartless” He sighed and tenderly brushed back a lock of blonde hair that curled in her face “Want you to feel some modicum of happiness after everything you’ve been through. I can’t even imagine what you’ve gone through or what your feeling. A woman with the weight of the world on her shoulders since she was fifteen years old. A bloody teenager. You want to know what I was doing when I was that age?” He said, a scarred eyebrow raising up as he posed the question, actually inviting her into his past.   
She shrugged  
“I dunno, beating other kids up with sticks? Stealing money from carriages?”  
He frowned “You think I was always some little bugger getting into trouble? On the wrong side of the bobbies?”  
“Well weren’t you?” She paused “And what the heck is a bobby anyways? You and your weird words and stuff”  
“One…we came first luv. You Yanks are the ones who bollocksed up the language so don’t insult me for the way I talk. Second of all, contrary to what Rupes and the rest of the Council of Wankers would like to believe, not that I bloody care what they think, but he and I didn’t grow up so different after all. When I was your age I was in primary school taking my academics and getting prepper for University, same as you, all while taking care of our estate and my mum. But you see I wasn’t dealing with demons, vampires and other beasties of the night, my friend problems, someone trying to kill me or the behavior of my sibling. I didn’t have any of those things Slayer. I was just…William. Just some ponce from North London”  
“That…surprises me. But your right. I guess I don’t really know anything about you”  
“I’m an open book Slayer. Anything you want to know, just have to ask”

She was quiet for a few moments and he could almost hear the sounds of the cogs turning in that pretty little head of hers. She mostly kept her head down eyebrows furrowing and looking anywhere but at him. Was she actually considering it? Had he actually managed to convince her.   
“Say I do say yes” She started hesitantly, choosing her words carefully. “What’s in it for you? I mean, there’s got to be something you’re getting out of this. You are evil after all”

Fuck that stung. He didn’t argue of course because yeah, he still had to retain some soddin bit of his reputation. He had to have some kind of reminder of the Big Bad he’d been, before the chip was put in his head and his fangs had been leashed and he hadn’t gone completely soft. So he let her believe it because he knew she wouldn’t believe him if he tried to convince her otherwise. Somewhere along the way though, he had stopped making excuses for himself about why he didn’t find pleasure in fucking with her mates or coming up with diabolical schemes to kill her. It was simple really. He just didn’t want to anymore. Not because he couldn’t, because if he had really wanted to he would have found a way to make things happen. He had hasn’t become a Master vampire on pure luck, though luck had gotten him through some pretty tight squeezes before. No. It was because of sheer determination, a bit of crafty planning and a hell of a lot of violence. 

He simply didn’t want to kill her anymore, or hurt her for that matter, not unless she wanted it. The only thing he wanted for her now was happiness. The girl deserved it after everything she’d been through up until now. So yeah, it hurt when she still used that excuse to defend herself against the things she didn’t understand or want to understand.   
He pressed himself closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and crushing her hips against his, grinding his poor aching prick against the warmth of her thigh. He ghosted his lips against the unmarked left side of her neck, nipping at the tendon and groaning against her softly when her mouth fell open in a breathy gasp and she ground back against him. It was pure heaven when she reacted to him like this, unabashedly returning his advances, making all those intoxicating noises unique only to Buffy, sound and smelling like she truly wanted this. Wanted him.   
“Well” He murmured against her skin “Right about that luv. Would be getting something out of it, although, can’t say it’s just for me. He licked up the side of her neck, biting gently at the skin under her ear with human teeth.   
“Shagging is bloody brilliant when your stoned”  
“Guh” She moaned her head lolling back allowing him better access to the chalice of her throat. He ducked down to her, not wasting a second and licking another wet trail, this time going down. He paused briefly over her fluttering pulse inhaling a shaky breath over the temptation of the rushing blood that lay there just beneath the surface before moving onto the junction of her neck and shoulder, peppering tiny butterfly kisses there making her quiver up against him. He did this up and down her neck and shoulders until he was back at her earlobe, sucking it gently,   
“Makes you feel everything more intensely, like your being absorbed into the world around you” He whispered softly “In those moments it connects you, grounds you, makes you feel like there’s no one else in the whole bloody world but you…and me”  
She sucked in another trembling gasp as he kissed down the slope of her jaw, and up the slope of the other, nibbling as he went.   
Even if she told him no, everything about her body was saying the opposite. Her fevered skin and panting gasps. The way her heartbeat fluttered like a rabbit and her arousal perfumed the air. 

There was some sick part of him that still relished in the fact that she tensed up just the tiniest bit anytime his lips or teeth or tongue wandered over her neck, especially when he got near her old scars. That some part of her was still worried and aware that she had a dangerous vampire at her throat. That at any moment he could sink his fangs deep into her jugular and tear open that tender sun kissed skin and have hot delicious Slayer blood spill out and down his throat. He could only hope for the day she would let him. But the desire was no longer to kill. Never to kill. He only wished to bring her the most intense pleasure he could offer her, by penetrating her with fang and cock. Anything to make her moan and writhe and say his name like she did when she fully let herself go. It wasn’t often enough. So few and far between was she anything but callous and cold and so he savored it any moment he could. 

“Could make it so good for you baby” He murmured against her throat, petting her pretty blonde locks and running cool fingers through. “Can make the world fall away for a bit. Let me take care of you Buffy. Let me do this for you. And if you don’t like it, if it’s not for you, we’ll stop anytime you get uncomfortable. I’ll wait it out with you, make sure you come down okay and…you’ve got full permission to drive that stake you’ve gotten hidden away straight through my heart”  
She was silent for so long again, save for her shaky breathing. And then he heard it. A tiny whisper.   
“Okay”

Bloody hell he needed a minute. Just hearing her say the words made his prick throb against his cursed zipper. He was about ready to prop her up on the headstone she was backed up against and shag her senseless before they even made it back to his crypt. Instead, he reigned it all back, much to the dismay of his cock and tenderly kissed her on the forehead.   
“Okay?” He parroted, probably screwing himself in the process for giving her a way out but damn his bleedin’ heart, he couldn’t not. He wanted her to want it.   
She nodded against him; the movement so small if he wasn’t hyper attuned to her he may have not noticed it. It meant everything to him.   
“Yeah..” She breathed shakily. “Let’s go before I change my mind”  
Couldn’t have that.   
“Lead the way pet”  
He followed behind her closely as she took them to his crypt, watching the way her hips swung as she moved, less gracefully than usually but it didn’t put any sort of damper on the way her pert little arse looked in those things pretending to be pants, not that he minded.   
They traveled in silence. For once it didn’t seem to be of the uncomfortable variety either, but that could be due to the nervousness that she was putting off like rays of energy from her tiny body.   
“So..” Her voice not as small now but still trembling  
“So” He answered quickly, striding up to her side rather than behind her  
“So…do you like…already have it?” She asked eyes flicking to this before dropping to the dead grass below the.   
He found himself softly chuckling, amused that she was so worried about getting caught with a little bud.   
“Already got it pet” Pulling out the small sealable container from the pocket of his duster to prove his point, procuring it for her to lay eyes upon. “Honestly can’t believe you didn’t smell it on me much earlier”  
She scoffed “Not exactly looking for it. For as long as I’ve known you I never saw you smoking it or heard you talk about it…or any other drug for that matter”  
“Haven’t caught me at the right time I suppose. Not like I’m tryin to hide anything”  
She nervously fiddled with a stake for a moment before speaking again  
“I think Oz was the only one who smoked it. Who I’d seen smoke you know? And he hadn’t exactly been a part of the gang for a while”  
He nodded in agreement “Figured Wolf boy would. ‘S always the musicians. Artists, writers…that type. Would’ve thought the Whelp might’ve too, though he didn’t exactly strike me as the next Dickens”  
“Xan? Nah…maybe once or twice in high school when he still hung out with Jesse but…” She trailed off.   
They fell into another long stretch of silence, reaching Restfield cemetery now before she spoke up again.   
“How did you get ahold of it? Did you steal it?”  
“Well yeah. But not in the way your thinkin. Didn’t take it from some pulser. Though fangs were involved”  
She bristled a bit.   
“Take it easy Slayer. Took it off some fledge I killed. Didn’t kill him with the intent to take it at first but its hard to miss the smell of this even if its all bottled up. Smelled it, wanted it, took it. And cleaned up for you so you bloody well be grateful for that”  
“I am” She said after a long pause of silence “And thanks…for cleaning up. I know I haven’t exactly been on top of things when it comes to slayings”  
“Been doin fine Slayer” He grumbled, her praise meaning everything.   
When his crypt came into view he was practically humming with anticipation. He had never thought it in a thousand lifetimes that he would have managed to convince her to come here, to do this with him. He rather figured he’d be a pile of dust right now fertilizing some lucky patch of cemetery. But no, she was really here, this was really happening, and he could barely stop the swell of emotions when she was the one opening the door to his home. Not slamming it open and demanding him for brief, angry sex with the intention of leaving moments later. Not here to gather information and storm of the door. She was walking in first, shyly holding open the door and closing it behind them. Them. Such as strange word to him, especially when it came to his ‘relationship’ with the gorgeous woman in front of him. How long had it been since he’d been dreaming of this thing between them being something more than just her and just him but them together. He wasn’t deluding himself though, knew that by tomorrow things would be right back to the way they were, with her coming in here like a raging storm, tearing the place apart and demanding everything he had to offer her for a few hours before she tore off again. But there was something about her tonight, something uncharacteristically soft about her. Something he hadn’t seen from her since…well…since before she’d jumped to save the world. 

He thought maybe if he could break down that barrier between them tonight using the potent sativa he’d managed to nick to bring her out of her shell, lift her out of her seemingly unending funk, maybe he had a chance. And even if it didn’t work and go according to his plan and she still stormed out come the break of dawn, well, then he could at least give her a night worth remembering.   
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When she stepped out of the chilly January night, well, chilly for a California night anyways and into his crypt, she started to feel the panic set in. She realized that for probably the first time since she’d come back that she had entered his home feeling something other than regret and anger. This was something entirely new for her. Coming here on her own terms wasn’t new of course, shed made it a point to make sure he knew that she was the one in charge every single night she winded up here. What was new was the addition of mind-altering drugs and the fact that despite her earlier admission of not being able to trust him, she was allowing him to take charge over her. 

He’d always pledged to her that he’d be there for her, to take care of her and that he wanted all of her. There was hardly a day where he didn’t remind her of his affection and devotion. She wasn’t sure what had possessed him to invite her here to smoke pot with him of all things, but the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. If it was everything he said it was, maybe she could finally relax a little, forget what was going on around her. The weight of being a Slayer had been so difficult lately and his offer of escape and amazing sex was too good to pass up. Not that sex wasn’t always amazing with him. It was what had kept her coming back, even though her mind had told her it was all wrong, her body craved him with every fiber of its being. 

The days she didn’t come here, when she stayed at home pretending to be okay in front of her friends, she’d go up to her room and just imagine him. That perfectly sculpted body, tight and lean with flawless skin stretched tightly over lithe muscle. Graceful and fluid like moonlit water of some ethereal lake, cold and refreshing as his narrow hips flexed and arced against her, driving that thick cool column of flesh deep within her. When she imagined him while she was laying alone in her bed, her own fingers buried in the slickness between her thighs, it was always his eyes that managed to bring her off. Whenever she pictured them, dark and stormy and black with lust or bright crystal blue when his emotions shone through, it was all she could do to stifle her cries when she was cumming. That and his rich sensual voice whispering dirty little things against the shell of her ear. She wondered how and why smoking would make it even better when it was already amazing. 

She realized that she was standing awkwardly in the doorway, not really sure of what to do with herself when she wasn’t here to just storm in, take what she wanted and then leave. But Spike had busied himself with jumping down the hatch as soon as they had walked in. She made her way to his makeshift kitchen and opened up his fridge, not really caring that she was being nosy. She was expecting beer and blood. She found those things, but it was everything else that was in there that made her heart swell in her chest. There, sitting in the center and right at perfect eye level was a tub of lowfat strawberry yogurt, a carton of fresh strawberries and a 12 pack of diet coke. She reached in awe towards the cold soda, grabbing at the metal can. 

When she turned around he was standing there, his duster removed, thumbs tucked into the front of his pants, long fingers framed around his zipper and directing her attention straight to the bulge that was already there. If nothing else, he was a boost to her fragile ego. He was always so hard for her, even when there was no obvious reason as to the reason. And just like that, he had her turned on. He wasn’t even looking at her with his usual leer or predatory gaze, or that thing he did where he curled his tongue behind his teeth. He was just casually learning up against one of the structural pillars, black paisley button up slightly open at the collar revealing slender collars bones and the more of his pale throat. The look he did have was one of…contentment? There was a soft glow in those lapis eyes that reminded her of the look he’d given he when he was tending to her hands the night she’d clawed her way of her own grave. A look she had almost forgotten about because it had been so long since she’d really let herself look at him. 

Not to mention she certainly hadn’t given him a reason to look at her like that. She found her heart fluttering, looking at that boyish smile like that was something natural between them.   
“I uh…thanks…for the diet coke. And what’s with the yogurt and the fruit? How did you even…?”  
“I pay attention” He shrugged, removing his hands away from his groin. “You think after over 6 soddin years that I don’t know what your go-to’s are?” He questioned raising that scarred eyebrow. “Know how to take care of my girl”  
She ignored the twinge of emotion that tugged at her heartstrings. Because despite what she had said to him only a few days ago, she didn’t feel the same venom. Couldn’t find the words to refute his claim and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.   
“Do you always have these things here?”   
“Well...yeah. Was hoping at least once that you’d stay the night and I wanted to make sure there are things here for you. Change them out obviously if they go past expiration. Eat the strawberries sometimes. Can’t say I fancy the others” He said with a curl of his lip. “And I can’t have you getting sick anyhow”  
Guh. Why does he have to be so thoughtful? Why does the vampire without a soul have to be the one to take notice of all the little things and say such sweet things and be all….boyfriendy when all the souled guys that I dated are the exact opposite. I mean…I was with Riley for over a year and he couldn’t remember what my standing coffee order was!

She was broken from her thoughts by his voice again as he got nearer to her.   
“Sides. Smoking tends to give one the munchies. Had to make sure you wouldn’t be denied anything if you suddenly start craving food. Its part of the experience after all. And if you wind up craving summat else, we can go out and get it for you”

She crossed her arms over her chest.   
“And you? What if you get the munchies fang face. I’m not a midnight snack you know”

The frown that graced his face and his hurt expression made her feel guilty that she had even brought it up. He was an evil, soulless vampire with a government issued behavior modification chip and had proven that he could hurt her now. Their show of blows and building destructive sex had proven that. But despite all that, he’d never, not once attempted to bring his fangs into their sex. Even on the days she would try and tempt hm by offering her neck while he was kissing there or press her heart against his lips as he performed his seemingly daily ritual of body worship, he never made a move. She did anything she could trying to goad him into making that last leap that would make it so much easier to just drive a strake though his evil heart and finally be done with him and all the things he made her feel. But he never did. Never made a move, never talked about it and certainly never asked. Even on her most valiant attempts he remained in complete control of himself with no hints of bumpies or fangs. So when the question spilled from her lips she instantly regretted it and the notion of that had her reeling.   
He scoffed.   
“Your daft if you think I’d betray your trust like that. Not that I’ve got it in the first place, told me as much already, but you honestly think that I’d do something to completely destroy what I’ve got?”  
He approached, usual swagger all but gone and leaving her with the gentlness of the man behind the demon.   
“Won’t hurt you Buffy” He murmured.   
At this point when he showed this side of himself, she’d force herself away, distance herself from him because she didn’t want to recognized that he was anything other than the cocky, perverted, bleached pain in her ass she needed him to be. But she was getting tired of keeping up that glamour, tired of dealing with the war inside her head.   
What was good anyways? What was evil? Was a soul even an indicator of morality? Her friends were good. They fought on her side and helped her stopped apocalypses from happening. But she seen how Willow could get, what with the evil mojo of all that black magics and she had a soul. The men and women on the news that caused all that death and destruction to other human: theft, arson, rape, murder, they all had souls. Angel…he had a soul and then when he didn’t he was a completely different person. But Spike didn’t have one, had never once had one. He slaughtered half of Europe for heaven’s sake. He didn’t earn his moniker William the Bloody from being peaceful. And yet even though he could still be a little bit evil, somedays more than others, even at his worst he was never half as cruel than Angel had been when he lost his. What she had now, this soulless demon that stood beside her was the worst of him she was ever going to get. 

“Don’t you want to?” She prodded  
“Course I want to” He said with hesitation “Wanted to since I first met you. You knew that. Slayer’s blood is powerful stuff sweetheart. One drop and I’d be riding a high like no other for days, probably weeks with your blood. You’ve so much more power than any of the others I’ve fought and tasted. So much bloody energy. Vitality. Strength. I ever tell you how Slayer blood is a powerful aphrodisiac?” He smirked  
He watched her face make this twisted combination of disgust and utter lust.   
“First time I was so bleedin hard for what felt like forever. Couldn’t get enough. Can’t even imagine what your blood could do. WIllin to believe that the soddin thing would never go down. Not that it doesn’t already with you around. Either that or I’d have to actually turn down a shag after the bugger was bruised enough” He laughed to himself. “Though knowing me that wouldn’t be much of a deterrent.”  
Her eyes dropped to his groin once again.   
“But despite all that Slayer, want the decision to be on your terms. I won’t take that away from you. Not when it’s been taken away from you more than once already” He whispered brushing feather light touched against the overlapping scars. Ugly and twisted they were, knotted together in a way that would never heal properly. She’d always have the reminder that she’d let her guard down enough to let herself get bitten. Angel may have been on her terms, but he certainly didn’t do anything to make his scar any less noticeable. 

When she was finally able to meet his gaze, all rosy and embarrassed she looked him in the eyes and whispered to him in return  
“I know. I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair for me to say. Despite everything Spike. All the self-hatred and violence, I know your not like that. I didn’t want to admit it before but…I’m starting to be able to now”  
He got that look of wonderment, a sort of sparkling in those too blue eyes and a strange feeling made its way through her chest that she hadn’t felt in a long time but was starting to feel more of.   
She would have swore that he’d made a big deal out of it, make an over the top speech about it, but he surprised her by just smiling at her softly and stroking her face gently. 

“Do you remember how you smoked it before? Did you like it?” He asked completely changing the subject which had her mind struggling to keep up for a second. She glanced over to the small container he had sitting out on the counter.   
“Uhh…Joint I think” She felt her face scrunch up remembering the sensation of pulling in heated smoke, the taste of burning plant, the harshness and coughing fit that followed.   
“Not good then?” He asked with a chuckle and she nodded in agreement.   
“I remember it hurting. Burning my throat and lungs. It was hard to breath” She replied clutching at her throat absentmindedly. “It was the same as when I tried smoking a cigarette”  
“Not for everyone. Not when you’re not used to smoking in the first place. Can’t say I’d ever imagine you smoking anyways pet. And luckily there are much more pleasant ways”  
“You mean like a bong or something? Do you even have one of those?”  
“Got a lot of things in here pet. Yeah, got one of those around here. But that’s not how were going to do this. Wanna make it enjoyable for you.   
Her curiosity was piqued.   
“And how are we going to do that?”  
“Shotguns” He stated simply, like it was the simplest thing in the world.   
“Shotguns” She replied in disbelief “How in the world does that have anything to with smoking weed? And after all that about not being able to hurt me”  
“Not the blood weapon you silly chit. Not gonna hurt you. ‘S a smoking term. Means I’ll take the hit from the bowl, breathe it in and breathe it out into that sweet little mouth of yours, seal the deal with a kiss. Comes from the Vietnam War. Soldiers would have a bowl in the open chamber of a shotgun barrel and inhale the smoke from the barrel” He recited proudly.   
“Careful Spikey, your age is showing” She teased thought she admitted she didn’t mind the little history lesson. Outside of hearing about the utter carnage he and the rest of The Whirlwind committed in Europe, she found herself wanting to hear the other…tamer…less bloody bits of history. History that he’d lived through, fought through, been apart of.   
“Cheeky girl. My age translates to nothing but pleasure for you. You can’t imagine the things I’ve learned over the years. Things I’m just thrumming to try out with that perfect little body of yours” He murmured huskily. “Such an eager thing you are. So responsive. You’d be bloody brilliant at the things I could teach you”  
She set down her soda and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing against him tightly. Her little breasts smashed up against the solidness of his chest as she brought him down for a kiss, molten and intense and how could she not groan into that cool mouth of his, waging a war of fire and ice. One of his strong hands cupped her ass, fingers kneading firm flesh and pressed her tight against that seemingly unflaggable cock of his. The other buried itself at the nape of her neck, effectively trapping her, but she felt no fear. She ground against him in response, little grunts of approval coming from her throat. Despite everything she told herself about how wrong it was to be here; she didn’t want to be anywhere else. Not when everything he did brought her closer and closer to heights she’d never been to before. He took her away from the cruelness of the world around her.

He broke away from her first, panting heavy and somehow knowing that she needed to breath, cocky little smirk on his face.   
“Oh sweetness. Driving me wild you are. Thought we were gonna smoke first. Not that I’m complaining. Can smell how much you want me now”  
“Want you” She mumbled against his perfectly lips, pink and swollen, taking sips of him.   
She felt the strength of him as he used the hand fondling her ass draw under her thighs as he began to lift her up. She made it easier for him, desperate to be closer.   
“Thought we might compare” She breathed wrapping her legs tightly around him, heated core slick with want for him and pressed tight against those insanely flattering jeans. She dug her shoes into the small of his back and moaned into his mouth when he grunted in approval.   
“Compare?” He questioned nibbling at her jaw  
“Yeah…You said sex it better when your high right?”  
“Mmm that I did. That what you want? Little before and after?  
“Ohh god yes” She moaned, returning his gesture, nipping at his jaw, feeling of rush of power as he rumbled beneath her.   
“Hold on then luv, going downstairs” He maneuvered them quickly, holding her tightly to him as he dropped down to the lower level, not bothering with the ladder. He landed gracefully and with minimal impact to her as he clutched her closer.   
“Alright?” His voice soft and she was touched by the concern in her voice   
“Yeah. I seem to remember falling from a lot higher with you” A knowing look on her face  
“One of the best nights of my life that was”  
“I know” She admitted “Despite my awful morning after bedside manner. It was pretty special to me too. I’m…sorry for how I acted. How I’ve been acting”  
“Two apologies in less than an hour? Should be careful pet. Might have to believe you care”

He walked them over to his overly sized bed, fitted with deep green sheets that reminded her of pine trees and a rich brown comforter. She realized it was probably the first time they were going to use the bed and not just the wall, or floor or stone sarcophagus on the floor above. Had it always been done up in earth tones? She would have expected red or black, not this. But somehow this fit him just the same, maybe even more. 

He lowered her gently and she untangled herself from him already morning the loss of him against her as she settled in the center of the bed atop the sheets. He followed her down, crawling over her, muscular legs straddling her waist. He bent down to her, one hand slipping under her waist, the other supporting himself as he hovered above her and took her lips in another bruising kiss. His need for her was ravaging, a cold kind of fire that still consumed everything it touched, leaving icy hot trails down her skin whenever those full swollen lips happened to touch down. 

He pulled away for only a moment, long enough to, remove her shoes, pull her cardigan off and to grab ahold of her tank top, quickly pulling it over her head and leaving her in a well-worn pink bra, no lace, no frills, no class. And yet he still gazed at her with that predatory gleam in his eye that made her feel like she was wearing the finest silks. He trailed up her torso, starting at her hips, protruding more than usual lately and laid passionate open mouth kisses up the front of her and then the curves of her sides. 

“I…do” She gasped as he pressed a line of kisses at the waist of her leggings, flicking his tongue just under the hem of the fabric teasingly. “I do care. I know I’ve been bitchy Buffy, but I’m still trying to figure this all out. Tara said I came back fine, just some kind of cosmic sunburn or something and then you can hit me, and my friends are all…avoidy. Can you blame a girl for not understanding herself?”

“Not pet. Won’t ever blame you” He murmured in response. “Your amazing for everything you do, everything you’ve done. Forgive me for acting like a berk” He laid a kiss in the dip between her hips, just below her navel. Sweet and reverent before catching her gaze and she could see the penance in those cobalt eyes, dark as night but lit up with the bright light of hope. It unnerved her how happy it made her that for once instead of seeing the seething hate and cruel indifference, he looked almost joyful. It terrified her. Not that he never looked happy. She had seen him happy before, the looks he’d given her. It was the feeling deep within herself, in some place she’d thought shriveled up and dead, never to be revived when she’d come back from beyond the grave that was scaring her. How was it possible that after holding onto so much anger towards the blonde vampire, so much that it nearly choked her, that suddenly she wanted to see him happy. Wanted more for herself, more for him? For the first time in a long time she wondered if Spike…might be the one. Angel had wanted normal for her and she had tried so hard for normal. 

She dated Riley, who was at least normal when they had started. All sweet and nerdy and clueless about her mystic calling. But once he found out about her, everything completely changed. All of a sudden this complex had set in that he had to be the man in the relationship. His fragile male ego wouldn’t let him not be the strong one, the protector. It was what drove them apart in the end, his need to be needed by her. That and his little stunt with the vampire girl suck jobs. And the less she said about Parker the better. He was so normal that he slept with her and ghosted her like the college dick he was. 

Spike was…an asshole and that was putting it nicely. He was complicated, said a lot of really rude things, he definitely hit her a lot more than anyone else and he was a constant pain in her ass. But…He was also the most loyal person she knew, was honest about everything and was the only one who never tried to put her up on a golden pedestal. He didn’t care that she was stronger than him, he reveled in it and praised her for her strength. He treated her like she was someone extraordinary but at the same time reminded her that she was just a woman. 

“All forgiven” Her voice barely a whisper and she thought maybe her heart skipped a beat when that boyish smile graced his face, uplifting perfect lips and devastatingly gorgeous cheek bones.   
“Brilliant” He whispered. She was pretty sure she saw his eyes beginning to mist over, but he said nothing more about the subject, instead shifting back into a leering gaze and it was almost physical the way his eyes raked over her nearly naked form.   
“Gonna get back to shagging you now then. Seems like we have an experiment to get back to and its been a tic since I’ve gotten stoned good and proper” She shivered with want at the huskiness of his voice.   
He sat back on his heels, looking down at her like he was ready to devour her before he was in motion, grasping at her leggings and tugging them down swiftly to reveal a matching pair of not so fancy faded pink cotton panties. Ones that had been in her drawer for a while now, but she hadn’t gotten rid of because they were comfortable. Spike didn’t seem to mind that they were little scraps of lace that were covering her.   
“Bloody gorgeous in pink” He murmured appreciably as he fingered the straps of the old worn out bra.   
“I know it’s not…”  
“Bite your tongue. Know your going to try and convince me that this pretty number doesn’t make your luscious tits and pretty cunt look delectable enough or that because its not lace or silk that its not posh enough. Buffy, sweet, you can wear anything or nothing at all and I promise you, you’ll still be gorgeous. There is nothing that your stunning golden form doesn’t look good in”

“Spike” She mumbled in protest, suddenly feeling more self-conscious about the whole thing. Before. And wow before really just meant yesterday didn’t it? Or even just his morning in terms of how new all of this was. Before her garments would have been removed (or torn or ripped) within seconds of her barging through the doors. The intention was urgency, to fulfill a need quickly and then leave. Other than their first night, most of their encounters were brief and to the point. She didn’t allow him time to indulge her in that way. Didn’t. As in past tense. As in she did now. There was an urgency here but for maybe the first time it wasn’t because she wanted him to be gone, she just wanted him. 

His lips returned to her, cool breaths fluttering over her twitching skin as he kissed his way up and down her athletic curves. He started high, pressing butterfly pecks down the slope of her jaw and neck and shoulders which had her softly moaning for him. She arced her back, allowing him plenty of room to undo the concealing fabric. He happily took the invite and undid the thing with the barest of movement of his fingers before tossing it aside.   
“So bloody beautiful” he praised, skating feathery touched across the newly exposed skin, her nipples, desperate for attention and already hardening on their own in anticipation of his touch.   
“Perfect little things they are”  
“Emphasis on little” She pointed  
“Did your selective hearing not pick up the adjective in that sentence?”  
“Things?”  
He growled in frustration  
“What are they teaching you in that bloody school of yours?”  
“How to piss off literature-y inclined vampires” She bit back in the snarkiest voice she could manage  
“Infuriating bint”  
“Says the guy who uses weird Britishy words I don’t understand. Just speak normally!”  
“You’re the one messin with the English language. Adding y to the end of everything doesn’t make it right you know. Or cute”  
“Get used to it bucko. Its part of the Buffy package”  
She was reveling in the heated play exchange (at least she thought it was playing, he had this look of mirth in his eyes and not one of seething anger anyways) partly because it was fun to piss him off and partly because it felt well…normal. It felt like a snarky conversation she would have with Xander or Willow or even her mom for god sakes. She couldn’t believe how refreshing it was to have some kind of conversation that didn’t involve death, demons or delinquent teenage sisters. It was only after she realized what she’d really said (guess her subconscious was more privy to the update in her sudden change in feelings towards her once enemy turned captive, turned reluctant ally) that she noticed another mercurial shift in his eyes and face That playful mirth was still there, but was completely swallowed up by that awestruck confusion that she was starting to see more of with him.   
“Package huh?” He repeated softly  
“Well…w…what I mean is” She stammered. Was it getting got in here suddenly. Surely it was normal for there to be a sudden heat wave in January…at the bottom of an old crypt.  
“’S okay” He spoke softly “Doesn’t need to mean anything just yet. Just knowing there could be a chance is more than enough for me”

“I don’t now how this is going to work. I’m still kinda feeling….It’s all so strange. How is that your so…” She fumbled not seeming to be able to get her mind and mouth to work collaboratively.   
“I’m patient luv” He finished  
She snorted  
“Could have fooled  
His jaw ticked as he glared holes in her  
“Hah bloody hah” He scowled “I can be patient for the things worth waiting for. Things worth my time. For the people that I love”  
She ignored the big elephant in the room for now, still not sure how she felt about the L word. Either of them. She wasn’t even totally sure if she really liked him or if she was just delusional.   
“I just…if this…I might be…out of sorts for a long time” She rambled  
“Out of sorts?” He drawled raising an eyebrow  
She was suddenly very uncomfortable not that she wasn’t before given the situation but not the feeling of him staring down at her without the feverish pace they normally would be going at where he didn’t have the time to linger suddenly had her anxiety rearing its ugly head. She brushed him away and sat up, crossing her legs and hugging herself, looking away from him.   
“Yeah…like…back and forth, flip floppy, hot and cold. Take your pick. I’ll probably act like a complete crazy person.   
“Buffy sweet, really not seeing the problem here  
“Oh you say that now. Its all about agreement and the understanding now, cause it just allows for more of..this” She gestured wildly to her nearly naked body “But dealing with all of the Buffyness, the nihilism and anger, my life actually crumbling around me and my friends and…” She could feel herself start to shake, could feel the terror seeping in, the uncertainty she didn’t know how to deal with. It was all ready to slam into her full force and she was ready to embrace it. But then she felt the lightest of touches on the dorsum of her foot, barely there but the weight of it felt like so much more. And then he was speaking, soft and even.   
“Buffy, luv, don’t know if you remember but I’ve dealt with crazy for a long time now, like to think I’m good at it” Her head picked up at that, staring into those impossibly blue eyes  
“I loved Drusilla. I loved her more than anything on this rotting planet”  
Her eyes narrowed  
“Not helping Spike”  
“Key word there, miss selective hearing, was loved. Past tense. As in not anymore. That part of my life is over. And let’s be honest, it’s been cockeyed ever since I rolled into this town. Dru knew the truth of it before my dumbass did. Spoutin things like ‘you taste like ashes’ and ‘when I look at you, all I see is the Slayer’”  
She couldn’t help but smirk at that  
“The point is Slayer, I loved Drusilla, even though I’d known that things weren’t the same anymore. Even after she’d gotten weak and shagging off the table, not that it had been for a while o’course, but I still loved her. It wasn’t just because I wanted her body. I was in love with her mind. She was a right sack of hammers most of the time, raving about fairies and seeing the sky indoors, but I loved her regardless. Loved her innocence, her ability to see beyond the shite that was going on all around us all the time. And in her moments of clarity she was saucy and playful and sharp as a whip. Beautiful inside and out she was” He mumbled with a sincerity in his voice that both scared her and made her swoon just the tiniest bit.   
“So you see lamb. Having your luscious body is an amazing gift, ‘m grateful for that. I love you and even though I want to be shagging you six ways till bloody Sunday, I can wait if you say stop, be there for you even if this is all I get. I’ll bloody be best friends with Scoobies if that’s what I need to do. ‘M yours luv. Hopelessly so. Not going anywhere anytime soon”

She stared at him for the longest time. Her life was all sorts of crazy right now with her sister, The Trio and her friends. This thing with Spike shouldn’t have been a blip on her radar. She shouldn’t even be considering how this could be anything more than just really amazing sex. Something to ease the pain and burden of being alive for a little bit before she had to go back to the living hell that was her life. But someone how in the past couple hours or so, all of that changed. She realized something then. She’d been going through all of this alone so far, despite what her friends and Watcher and sister said, she always felt alone. And she was tired of it. Maybe that’s why these feelings were so nuclear, dropped hard and fast on the unsuspecting land of her already battered heart. She didn’t want to just forget anymore. She could feel it in her gut that they were on the verge of another semiannual apocalypse and something told her it wasn’t the Trio pulling the strings. This thing with Dawn was only going to get worse before it was going to get better and she was seriously starting to get worried with Willow and her recent break up and use of magic.

But despite all of that, Dawn would be a sophomore next year and Xander and Anya were getting married soon and there were just a lot of things the had to look forward too as well and she realized that she wanted a partner in all of this. Someone with her through all the good and the heaping mounds of bad. Whose temper and sarcasm but also love and devotion rivaled her own. Someone who could protect themselves and occasionally needed protecting but always had her back, or her left, whichever she needed at the time. Someone like Spike. Epiphanies were strange things. 

She gave him a small smile and unfolded weary limbs.   
“I think we still have an experiment to test out” She mumbled shyly  
She watched the shift in those overly expressive eyes of his go from pale blue and soft contentment to cold fire, deep and blue, pupils blown.   
“That we do luv” He whispered huskily, crawling towards her again, forcing her to move back with him until she was nearly pressed against the iron wrought bars of his headboard.   
“So tell me. What is it that my Slayer wants?”  
Cool fingers stroked her sides, marking every prominent rib, gossamer touches trailing cool flame across her skin and setting her to fire. When he plucked at her nipples, already hard from being chilly she mewled for him, desperate little sounds that had her pushing her breasts into his hands.   
“Could do this until you cum” He offered, varying his touch between strong pinches, soft swirls around the diamond hard tips and rapid little brushes with the pads of his fingers.   
“Too long” She whined, instead raising her hips in an attempt to shift his attention.   
“Gonna be awhile anyways. Not planning on making this quick”  
She frowned  
“Quick now. Take your time later”  
“What do you want then. Gotta tell me”  
She whined in frustration.   
This had been one of the reasons that her latest encounters with him had been short and to the point. She didn’t so much mind the way he was constantly talking to her. Listening to that whiskey smooth voice tugged at her clit and made her hot all over. It was when he started asking her for what she wanted. She was severely limited by her sexual experience and even if she wasn’t it was hard for her talk about it like it was casual conversation. Not that she was a prude, she was just...embarrassed to talk about it, especially in how explicit he wanted her to.  
Come on Buffy. You know them all. Work out the words so you don’t sound like a total virgin. Or…would be prefer it like that? Crap…your overthinking this. This is Spike were talking about, he likes blunt. He wants you to tell him what you want so just...tell him that you…want…..him. Guh. He knows that dummy. Stupid vampire senses and all. Maybe I should go back to just want, take have and get the hell out of here before…oh…oh god  
The world came back to her and her eyes snapped open back to him. She hadn’t even been aware that she closed them until now. He had a wicked grin on his face, and she felt him roll her hips against her and was pleasantly surprised when she felt the smooth hardness of his cock grinding down between her clothed center.   
“When did you…” She started, breathily moaning when he removed himself and ripped away the cotton panties, leaving her exposed to him and his gaze.   
“Said quick right?”  
“I liked those dammit” She pouted   
“Get you new ones” He growled, grabbing at her hips and angling her against him so that every time his hips moved he was sliding against hot slippery flesh but not inside her.   
“How do I know that’s a big fat lie?”  
“Hmm your right, I’d rather you not wear them ever again”  
She pressed up against him every time he slid down against her, trying desperately to make him slid right in. But he was teasing her, chuckling every time she thought she had him and he escaped her at the last second.   
“Spike” She whimpered, shivering in pleasure every time he pushed forward, his swollen cockhead, covered in a mixture of both of their fluids and rubbing against her overly sensitive clit. “Spike please” His eyes rolled back from that, so she did it again.   
“Please”   
She knew she sounded desperate, but she hoped it would spur him on, make him lose that last little but of control. It didn’t of course, he apparently had that in spades these days. But she was visibly pleased that he did respond his voice was noticeably ragged  
“Please what”   
She flicked her hips against him, a groan rising from him and released one of the hands on her hips so fingers could wander over her hairless mons, slip easily through soaked folds and press down against her engorged bud.   
Her eyes squeezed shut as she keened desperately, rising from her throat as she threw her head back, throat exposed, breasts pressed towards the ceiling.   
“Want you” She moaned, which earned her one from him in return, a rich, dark sound from low in his throat that had tremors course through her body like a mini earthquake.   
“Want my cock luv, that it?”  
She nodded desperately  
“Tell me” He commanded in response  
She opened her mouth but still she couldn’t make herself say the words  
Dammit Buffy you’re an adult. Just say the fucking words. You know he’s not going to break; he’s got a century and a half of control and patience over you. The only leverage you have here is his apparent weakness for the word please. Best use that to my advantage.   
“Need you” She gasped “Please”  
He chuckled darkly  
“Wont work luv. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing”  
He worked two fingers against her now, making agonizingly slow circles that were building her up and up and up but not at the quick intensity that she needed  
“I don’t know what your talk about” She offered sweetly, giving him the biggest doe eyes she could manage  
“Little mix. Can last a long time like this sweetheart. Only doing yourself a disservice here”

He kept slowly working her with his left and bent down to her fevered skin and kissed the gentle slope underneath one breast, still in that infuriating way where he was close but not close enough.   
All of it was too much. Where she had the attention span of a small bug, he was easily and eagerly doing three separate things to pleasure her, none of which ever faltered no matter how long things seemed to go. She was alight in the sensations. The softness of his lips, the rhythmic press of his fingers, even the crude squelching sound of his cock sliding through the wetness of her soaked, puffy pussy lips. And what’s more, she found herself hypnotized by the soft throaty moans he was making every time he thrust against her. It sounded like he was just as enraptured as her, an aphrodisiac more powerful than anything she’d ever known. She needed him too much to be hung up on a couple of words now.   
“Spike” She moaned again and when those azure eyes met hers, flecked with gold and glazed over with desperate lust, she felt her breath catch in her throat and a flood of arousal rush over her. His nostrils flared and his eyes rolled back.   
“Need you Spike. Touch my clit ad make me cum. Then I need your cock inside me. Anyway you want, just hard and fast. I can’t wait anymore”  
“Oh Christ” He growled in response. A sound so feral she thought he might have vamped out for a moment. His fingers thrummed against her, playing her like an instrument and the sudden tempo change from adagio to vivace had her careening towards the edge at breakneck speed.   
“Look at you baby, look at you” He whispered reverently. “Spread your legs. There’s a girl. Bloody hell what a beautiful flower you are, all open and pink and fragrant for me”  
He made her feel hot. Like she was burning from the inside out. She was already so close.   
“Such a pretty little bud. So sweet, so tight. My pretty little orchid. I’ll have a taste of that sweet nectar later pet but for now…”  
He worked her at a pace that teetered between pleasure and pain. Gathering wetness from her sopping opening to lubricate his fervent fingers and found herself blushing listening to the pornographic sounds. When she was right at the edge, muscles quivering in anticipation, hips flexing of their own accord, that was when she felt cool fingers trace around her entrance.   
“Bloody hell” He heard him whisper against her before he plunged those lithe digits into her.   
In less than the time it took to mutter his name, he’d already found that perfect deep spot inside her, found it and stroked it in this maddening rhythm that had white light beaming in the back of her eyes as she let trembling breath she was holding in go. Which came out as a high-pitched cry as he quickly brought her over the edge. 

“How beautiful you are. Irradiant little sun goddess, all lit up and shining like the bloody sun. You’ll burn me up one day and I wont even care” His voice near trembling but melodic. But the soft lines of his kissable lips pulled back into a devious smirk.   
“And so bleedin strong, pulling me in, crushing me. Need you wrapped around my prick now luv. Hard and fast yeah?  
She nodded and smiled sheepishly  
“Can’t move my legs”  
“No worries there. I’ve got you”  
She felt his fingers slid away from her, still insistently hard and throbbing and how she wanted to keep touching her there. Keep her cumming and cumming until she was completely spent.   
One moment his cock, hard and smooth and glistening with her renewed slickness was sliding through her folds. His angry red cockhead swollen with his patience was thrusting towards her in slow easy pulls. The next he was buried balls deep within her.   
She moaned, deep and throaty at his unannounced intrusion.   
“Fuck” He hissed “So goddamn tight you are. Always like the first time, every bloody time”  
“Y...Yeah, you too” She agreed  
“Oh really” He hurried, grabbing ahold of her hips and pulling her flush and tight against him, seated deep within her. A hoarse cry erupted from her.   
“Tell me about that” He coaxed sinfully, drawing himself all the way out, making her squirm from the loss of him, hanging on an inhaled breath until she felt him slid back in, taking his time. Gods how was she this addicted to something, to someone, she should be so vehemently against? She really was the worst Slayer in the world.   
She released that shuddering breath, reveling in the sensation of him filling her up.   
“This going to sound really cheesy” She laughed awkwardly  
“Don’t care. If it’s the truth, that’s all that matters to me”  
She hesitated  
“You’ll laugh”

“You listen here. ‘M not gonna bloody laugh at you. Think of this as a sanctuary yeah? What goes on here between you and me is sacred. You get nervous, uncomfortable, have questions and you just tell me” He cupped her jaw tenderly and she found herself nuzzling into his tender gesture. “I’ll never judge you precious, especially if it makes you feel good. I may be a lot of things, lots of evil, nasty things, but I treat my lady right” He accentuated his point by running fingers across the arch of her hip bones and up and down her sides of her thighs, kneading muscle as he went. 

“Now…what’s rattling around in that gorgeous head of yours hmm?”  
Here goes nothing. Just be honest, tell him how you feel.   
“You always feel so good, Filling me up. So impossibly big and it doesn’t matter how many times we’ve done it or how long we go for. It’s like that every time.   
“Yeah?” He hummed in satisfaction “Slayer likes a bit of monster in her man?”  
“Mmmhmm” She agreed and gasped when he picked her legs up and threw them over his shoulders, pulling all but her upper body off the bed.   
“Feel good like this?” Driving deep into her. The change in angle allow him to reach that innermost place, the entrance to her womb, where save for the pulsing head of his cock and river of undead seed; would likely never be filled.   
She nodded enthusiastically.   
“Tell me” He growled, his slim hips all hard lines and devoid of any soft cushioning slapping harshly against her ass as he pounded into her.   
“Feel so good. So deep”  
God she had missed the way he felt. As much as she loved to hate him and the way he made her feel, there was never denying how fucking good he fit, the way he was practically made for her. Or she for him was more accurate wasn’t it? Was it possible that a man born over 150 years ago was designed to be her other half?  
“Love hearing you whisper nasty things. Love the way your pretty cunt looks all stuffed with my prick. Swallowing me up whole. All pretty and pink and bloody soft. Love that too”  
“You like?” She cooed “Not a fan of hair?”  
He smiled wickedly   
“Fan of everything luv. Especially on you. But there are certain perks of this. But it doesn’t matter to me what you do. Your body innit? ‘M gonna enjoy it either way”  
Why does he have to be so damn considerate? This would be much easier if he was a sexist misogynistic pig. And yeah he’s kinda a pig like..a lot of the time, but he’ really very sweet.   
“Hard enough for you Slayer?” He leered  
She shivered at the sound of his voice, gravelly and getting close to losing it. She used to love hearing it because it meant he was close to cumming. She’d learned pretty quickly that Spike could last an insanely long time when he wanted to. She was sure he did it on purpose so that he was able to be with her longer. So she’d had to up her game and find new ways to make him crumble underneath her. But now the pleasant sound of his voice had a new connotation.   
“I think your holding back vampire” She responded huskily. “Don’t worry. I won’t break”  
“Little vixen” He snarled “I’ll show you holding back” He gripped onto her with inhuman strength now, not quite drawing blood but tight enough to leave bruises. Something that only a day ago would have disgusted her, having visible markings that reminded herself that she’d allowed herself to be sullied by him. And while she wasn’t keen on showing them off to the world just yet, she supposed they had a certain charm. She wondered if he’d let her do the same.  
Of course he would Buffy. You already know he’s into all that kinky stuff. He’d probably beg you to do it to him. Oooh. Now there’s a thought  
She was lucky she wasn’t on the stone slab of his sarcophagus and instead pressed into the high thread count sheets of his bed as he increased the pace and viciousness of his thrusts from teasing but hard to pure vampiric strength and speed. There was nothing teasing about the way he moved his hips now, snapping against her so that he sound of flesh and bone slapping against skin reverberated off the cavernous walls in an erotic echo that she would have once considered embarrassing but not she could only think of as hot. 

Because despite the fact that he was drilling into her like the beast he’d called upon, his strokes were still fluid. His hips stilled moved gracefully in their tantric dance against her and rolled against her with an elegance that reminded her of a waltz. A really exotic waltz. No matter which way he had her, he always seemed to make the most out of it for her, drawing out pleasure that vibrated down to her very core and had her gasping, moaning for him with noises she would have never believed were coming from her throat.   
Low, powerful, primal sounds indicative of something more than the 20-year-old girl she was. And she was entranced at how captivated he was by it. Those deep azure eyes focused on her alone, a calmness in them despite the maelstrom of fury and fucking going on as he was drawn into her by her siren’s song. The poet in him drawn by the melodious nature of her call.   
“How’s that for you eh luv?”  
She arched her back, raising her flushed chest skyward, immediately drawing his gaze to diamond hard nipples on small but supple breasts. Despite his commanding rhythm, she found one of her own to match him, undulating against him and matching every clash of his hips with the undersides of her thighs so that his heavy sack slapped against the curve of her ass  
“More” She commanded, voice scratchy and breathy but authoritative enough for her vampire “Wanna feel you deeper”  
He chuckled darkly and she gushed around him   
“Sure that’s what you want?”  
“Oh yes. Come on Big Bad” She taunted  
“Christ Slayer, don’t say I didn’t warn you”

Muscled forearms appeared on either sides of her head and lithe fingers threaded through the tresses of her golden locks that had formed a halo around her head. He bent forward and pushed against her further, the tops of her thighs now nearly flat against her breasts and tummy, completely folded in half. He leaned down over her and crushed his mouth against her, consuming the instant shriek that welled up at the intensity of him, how generous his prick, long and girthy ravaged her like this, would have broken a lesser female. But not her. With this angle and the way his cold hard body was pressed into her, she could no longer meet his thrusts but found herself lost to the rhythmic grunts of the man between her legs.   
“Oh fuck” He snarled “Cunts like a bleedin vice” He groaned and whimpered with every thrust. “Need you to squeeze me yeah? Want to feel those wicked muscles grip my cock. Please. Need you baby. Strangle my poor prick. Hurt me good Buffy”  
The desperateness of his voice and filthy mouth had her dizzy with power. To have so much control over such a powerful creature, a master vampire whose strength rivaled her own, whose sexual exploits bested hers by 10^3 but acted like she was the greatest thing he had ever had was intoxicating. He made her feel like a queen. A sexy dominating queen.   
So as he relentlessly hammered into her, she simultaneously clenched around him, working her muscles that she had been too afraid to use before in fear for breaking the mere boys she was with and instead used them to draw out the low raspy gasps and moans deep within his beautiful throat, working her up even more. In almost not time she brought him right to his edge.   
He certainly talks a tough game, but you were so close, weren’t you Spike. You were getting so close already and now you’re just trying to hold on. You love this.   
She caught his gaze then, eyes barely open but drowning in lust, that look like he’d completely lost himself. The effect was..powerful. Too powerful maybe but for the moment she didn’t care. It gave her unknown confidence, a need to give back to him as he did for her.   
“Oh god Spike. Just like that. Want you close when you come with me. Please. I’m right there too. Come closer to me”  
Desperate and groaning he sunk himself deeper within her, dropped his forehead to the crook of her neck and pumping sporadically for a few more thrusts before he forced himself deep inside her and shuddered in release, her name a whisper on his lips as he pressed an open mouthed kiss to the side of her throat above her hummingbird pulse. It was that tender touch and the feeling of his pulsing inside her, filling her that had her following him seconds later, crying out her release that elicited another rumble from the man above her.   
“Beautiful girl” He whispered between unneeded panting breaths, along with other sweet nothing that had her grinning and blushed.   
She lay there under his solid weight feeling momentarily sated despite the soreness creeping in as her muscled continued to be stretched and the thick hardness of him still buried within her continued to twitch in reaction of the aftershocks of her internal muscles. 

After a few moments of resting she felt him shift above her, sliding back away and slipping from her, causing her both to wince and both of them to groan.   
“Cor…I know I was rough luv. Are you alright? Hurting?  
“A little yeah” She admitted, not feeling the extent of his bestiality until he was completely removed from her. “But that’s okay. It’s a good hurt and it just means you get to come here and kiss it all better”  
He grinned lusciously  
“That right? Your aware that might even be a little too far in your delightful cunny for even me to kiss better?”  
Her eyes widened in mock shock.   
“Is that defeat your admitting to Mr. The Bloody? There’s something that devilish tongue of yours can’t accomplish”  
He playfully growled, nipping at her lips  
“Bite your tongue. Only means I’ll find an even better way of making it up to you”  
“I’m gonna hold you to that” She countered  
He stroked the side of her face delicately, brushing the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip  
“You are something special” He murmured tenderly  
She rolled her eyes  
“Yeah. Kinda comes with the title. Slayer, The. One girl in all the world”  
“No not that” He scoffed “Not your bloody calling. Just you. Just Buffy. In all my years I’ve never met anyone like you. Been around for a long sodden time” He muttered in that soft awed voice  
“You mean between the thousands of people you’ve eaten you’ve never gotten to know them” She teased  
“Beautiful and infuriating. Now I’m sure your trying to brass me off”  
“There you go Big Bad. You’re finally using that brain of yours”  
“Oil. Got plenty of brains. Not gutter swill like Peaches you know. Was at the top of my class I was”

She should have been mad at the mention of Angel, especially because he was once again talking trash about him. And she didn’t particularly want to hear his name no matter what the situation was or deal with the constant jealous vampire bit because seriously? That was getting really fucking old. She found it somewhat charming that he was blatantly upset she’d thought of him as just another ruffian. If not anything, Spike had his pride. It seemed there was a lot more to Spike than just outward appearance. But other than the time she’d asked about his run ins with the previous Slayers, its not like shed been interested in delving into his past.   
He was still ranting when she zoned back in.   
“I just happened to follow my blood, which doesn’t exactly rush in the direction of my brain”  
“Mmm two guesses where it does rush”   
“Someone’s feeling saucy tonight. Quite chuffed with this side of you”  
She felt a legitimate smile upon her face.   
“You’re not so bad yourself” Was this this what it was like to feel happiness, to feel this swelling, this feeling of contentment in the presence of another person? She wasn’t sure if she was ever going to feel like this again.   
After a few moments of lying there in comfortable silence, his fingers brushing lightly over whatever skin he could reach, nipples hardening in the cold and gooseflesh erupting all over her skin, he started to move again.   
“Right then. Time for the second part of our lovely evening. Got to grab the good luv, be back in a tic”

In a flash he was gone, turning away from her, giving her a good look at his muscular back, the rippling flow of deltoids and triceps as he seemed to glide up the ladder. Not to mention that delectably toned ass of his. It should be a sin for a man to look that good just climbing up a ladder. As soon as he was out of her sight, her old friends fear, and doubt reared their ugly heads. 

Every slayer instinct was telling her that it was a horrible idea to flood her body with poison. Mind altering drugs that would compromise her ability to do her job and with a vampire no less. A vampire that only a few years ago was still brewing schemes, finding ancient relics and ready to bury his fangs in her neck and drain her dry without a second thought. But somewhere along the line he’d changed. Maybe it was before the chip, or maybe after, she wasn’t sure. Was his love brought about by his inability to fend for himself and his subsequent attachment to her rag tag band of misfits? Or was this something deep, something she couldn’t understand? She honestly wasn’t sure of the answer. Maybe one day she’d asked him what had changed so drastically for him that he suddenly found himself in love with the one girl in all the world he’d made it a mission to seek and destroy. 

Whatever the reasoning, and despite that the Buffy from only a day before wouldn’t believe the possibility, she knew without a doubt that he was as much in love with her as he claimed. Because there were a few things she knew without question without Spike. He was tenacious, pressing on even though plan after plan failed him and never giving in, even when a fight was stacked heavily against him. He was loyal, he’d shown that with Dru in that he’d stayed by her side monogamously even when she wasn’t offering him anything. He’d shown it with her friends in her absence and with her as well. He was strong. She’d seen the damage he could go when he was still at his worst, had seen the amount he was able to lift. He didn’t let his shorter stature hinder him in anyways. He was a true fighter and used it to his advantage. She’d never seen him, and Angel go toe to toe in a fight before, but he’d been shown the ropes by a vicious killer like Angelus, she had no idea who would win in a fight. She also knew Spike was godawful at lying. For an intelligent street punk like him she would have thought it would be one of his natural talents. Boy had she been wrong. Which is why as much as she wanted to believe the voice in the back of her head that said all the sweet and comforting things he said to her over the past years and especially tonight were just spiderweb lies, games that he was playing to toy with her feelings, use her body and then break her completely, she knew that they were all true. Every single syllable that came from that sinful mouth, every murmur, every praise, every desperation that was uttered from those perfectly kissable lips was 100% the truth. 

And after her Dad, Ford, Angel, Owen, Parker and Riley, all men who’d uttered sweet little lies right to her stupid gullible face, she expected him to do the same. But no. Even when he was at his absolute worst, evil and bent on killing her, he’d always been upfront to her about it. 

It was the delicate clink of glass and the sound of sloshing ice that reminded her where she was again and that alerted her that Spike had returned. On the table next to his bed he set down the ice bucket filled with bottled water, diet coke and a glass with yogurt and a spoon. Next to it he set down a decanter of blood, a bottle of whiskey, his lighter, the container of bud, a little blue grinder and a black glass piece swirled with flecks of red and gold that she recognized as a bowl.   
“Pretty” She mumbled acknowledging the rather large looking glass pipe.   
“She’d been with me a while now. Since the 70’s” He said conversationally, picking up the piece and examining like he hadn’t seen it a thousand times before.   
“It looks…clean. For being around 30 years”  
“She. And well yeah. Just because I don’t have to worry about disease doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be cleaned out. Not to mention whenever you don’t it tastes like rubbish”  
“You do know it’s an inanimate object you’re talking about. It doesn’t have a gender? Or are you just self-projecting a gender on it because its something to put your lips around”  
His jaw ticked  
“No pet. These things just are the way they are. ‘S like with a boat or a car or summat. They’re just innately female and so is she. Besides. Just because I have my preference in beautiful birds doesn’t mean I don’t fancy a bloke now and then either” He smiled mischievously  
She felt herself flush all over  
Oookkkaay that was maybe something I didn’t need to know right. Right? I mean…its not that weird. People are bi. Willow liked both genders. Not at the same time of course but the attraction was there just the same. So is it strange to think of Spike with another guy? I mean he’s a vampire. That’s probably normal. Its not strange. Absolutely not. Is it hot? Oh Jesus yes. To think of that tight compact little body of his in the arms of another man or…wait? Maybe wrapped around someone? Would he be a top or a bottom?  
He was staring at her with his tongue curled behind his teeth and somehow she knew that he was aware of what she was thinking about   
“Both” He said with a cat ate the canary grin.   
“B..both?”  
But he said no more. Just sat on the edge of the bed, hovering over the table, and popping little greenish bits into the teeth of the small blue grinder. She realizes that she’d never really gotten to see it before, not like this.   
“Umm…can I?”  
He looked up from his task and it had to be downright criminal how cute he looked right now. Focused on his task and exuding this, youthfulness that just reminded her of a typical college boy. Like they were teenagers who played hooky to go and smoke in the nearest mausoleum.   
“Wot. Wanna look at it? You’ve never seen it before?”  
“Uh not like this no. Only in its ‘after’ form”  
She scooched over to him and he plucked one of the buds and placed it in her open palm. It was a light shade of green, pretty and healthy with a blueish hue to it that made it look almost cyan. Raveled in between all the leafy bits were strands of gold that looked like little strings and the little flower seemed to be covered in thousands of tiny white crystals.   
“Pretty” She spoke appreciatively  
“That it is. And this is the bloody good stuff too. Looks like the bloke I took it off got it from the great San Fran itself. Bloody good town that”  
“What’s in San Francisco?” And how do you know it from there?”  
He rolled his eyes  
“Only place in the good ole US of A that dispenses the stuff legally, medically you know? If this wasn’t purchased legally it wouldn’t have come in this pretty little package or have a name to go along with it”

She brought it to her nose as he talked and pulled back after the first tentative sniff.   
“Wow that is…pungent” She mumbled  
“Tellin me. How’d you think I found the fledge in the first place? Surprised there weren’t more gunning for him before or after me to be honest. Was expecting to have to brawl over it. Bit sad I didn’t get to. Could use a good fight”  
“All this fighting over something so tiny” She marveled “You hear about…the cartels and stuff all the time. Right here in America and on the other side of the border. Killing people. Torturing them”  
“Wouldn’t be so bloody bad if it wasn’t declared illegal. People want what they can’t have right? And when they can’t get what they want it makes lotsa folks just result to violent. Makes em go barmy”  
“I guess” She mumbled sadly studying the flower for a few more seconds before sniffing it again  
“Tell me what you smell”  
“Your kidding right?” She wrinkled her nose. “It just smells like weed. Like…I hit a skunk on the freeway” She paused “Why? What does your super vampire nose smell?”  
“Not just cause I’m a vamp luv. Have a great deal of experience with this”  
“What’re you a connoisseur?” She giggled  
“Something like that”  
“Well then tell me. What’s it smell like?”  
“You’ve got the right of it with the skunk, its mostly unavoidable. But this one happens to be piney with a touch a’lemon”  
“Sounds like floor cleaner” Her face scrunching up  
He paused and then barked a laugh  
“Suppose it does when you say it like that”  
She watched as he methodically packed it into the rather large imprint of the bowl, adding a few layers of a fine green powder from the bottom most chamber of his grinder to the rest of the bowl. 

When he was finished he scooted himself back, leaning against the pillows and iron frame of the bed, bowl in one hand, legs outstretched in front of him in a wide V.   
“Come ‘ere kitten” He purred  
She went without a fight, crawling towards him slowly, surprising herself at how willing she was to obey his command. He kept his eyes on her the entire time and she recognized the darkening look of his lust for her, the one that turned his blue grey irises to one that looked like the blue of twilight at the last light of day. But behind that predatory look she saw the gentle, good natured look of a satisfied man just waiting for his lover to join him in bed. It wasn’t a look she had wanted to ever associate with him, she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that black and white didn’t exist so much as varying shades of grey and that Spike, not matter how badly she wanted to put him in just one polar end of evil that he was anything but. He would always be a rebel. And with that look he was giving her right now that at any moment he would lurch forward, devour her with that sinfully sweet mouth, maybe he was just a little bit evil. When she reached the open space between the V of his legs, cock laying gently against his left thigh, only half hard and silky cockhead tucked away by his foreskin she couldn’t help but stare. 

She hadn’t taken the time to look at him much, hadn’t cared, but she wanted to now and she would most definitely later. When she reached him she turned and pressed her back to the hard wall of his chest and grinned when he rumbled around her.   
His arm instantly curled around her waist and pulled her closer and she had to take a second to process how human the action was.   
“How’s this work?” She asked breaking the silence.   
“I light it and breathe in deep, then luv, you kiss me, open up those pretty pink lips for me and I breathe it into you. Take a deep breath, inhale as much as you can and let it settle into your lungs, then breath out”  
“S..Sounds good”   
“Yeah? Ready then?”  
This was it; she was really doing this. Not that smoking pot was the end of the world of course, but it certainly was out of left field for her. Giving up this control, it was hard, and it scared her, but for too long she hadn’t felt anything at all. She was tired of fighting. Fighting everyone around her, her destiny, herself. She was finally starting to feel alive again. And somehow the person that made it happen was the complete opposite of alive. In the technical sense that was, because as she had learned, Spike was more alive than anyone she knew.   
“Ready”  
He lightly chuckled at her resolve  
“One stoned Slayer coming up”  
She heard the first click of the lighter, felt his arms shift tighter around her so he could manipulate the glass piece with two hands. Felt the heat of the flame and heard the singe of when that heat touched against the bud. She immediately smelled it and was taken back to that time in high school, that pungent earthy smell with the odor of skunk and grass. But even as she smelled it, she remembered his description and then she could smell the woody pine and the bright freshness of lemon. It didn’t smell so bad then, pleasant almost.   
He brought it to his lips and pressed them gently to it and she felt a lance of jealousy go through her, at how he looked as though he was kissing it with an intensiveness as though it was it was a lover. She wanted that feeling for herself, she realized now how hers it was. That strong feeling of emotion that came with every touch of those full soft lips made against her own lips, the inside of her thigh, the peak of her breast, the swollen bud of her clit. She knew that what she may feel for him may not quite be love, but there were feelings there for him. Deep feelings. 

She wanted no one else to feel that intensity that was solely him. He was hers. He’d said so, had been for a while now. Now she was starting to believe that she was his too.   
He inhaled a long deep breath, one so completely unnatural for his kind but never for him. She watched embers of burning plant matter get consumed to ash, bright orange where they smoldered the hottest with little fiery legs grasping out to grab more, consume more. She watched as his breath turned the vibrant green to bitter black until nearly half the bowl was charred and then he pulled the finger off the carb and inhaled sharply. He held it there for a moment before she felt the hand that had been curled around her waist draw up the length of her, cool fingers trailing across her belly, between her breasts, over her throat and then he was tipping her head back and to the right. He turned awkwardly so that his lips could meet hers and pressed a chaste kiss, one devoid of the hunger that normally overtook him so sweet that when his tongue did run along the seam of her lips, she gasped in surprise. When she did it wasn’t the coolness of his tongue she felt inside of her mouth, but the rush of cool earthy smoke. 

He blew it into her mouth, seemingly endless and she inhaled deeply, mimicking him. She was surprised at the lack of harshness of it, remembering the last time the smoke had been hot and acrid and had made her want to gag. But the smoothness of this was like the cool chilled swigs of whiskey she had taken from his bottle those weeks before. Finally the stream stopped, and he gave her another tender kiss.   
“Good girl” He sighed “Take it all in, breath deep out. That’s its baby, well done”  
The cloud of smoke that came from her lung seemed unending and when there was nothing left she felt herself start to cough. She coughed so much that her face got hot, her ears most of all and Spike all the while ran a smoothing hand up and down her arm.   
“Easy luv. Try and take long deep breaths in and out” He coached  
They subsided eventually; great body wracking hacking reduced to a few wheezes until finally it all stopped.   
“Here” He offered her one of the bottled waters “Drink up, should help“  
She graciously accepted and found that she chucked damn near the entire bottle before taking another breath.   
“Good?” He asked, the vibrations of his rumbling chest reverberating throughout her body.   
“Gross” She mumbled sticking her tongue out and feeling a set of full body disgust shivers run through her “But it wasn’t as bad as I remember it”  
“Perks of being a vamp. Can chill the smoke so it’s not so harsh. Like your own little percolator” He paused for a moment “How’re you feelin pet?”  
“Normal still…I think”  
“Give it a minute, see if you feel anything. Bird your size should be affected by a hit that big. That and you’ve got no bloody tolerance built up”  
She looked down at the bowl, saw that he still had half of it left.   
“Why don’t you take another? You can’t have gotten much from that and I’m sure your tolerance…thingy isn’t so low”  
“ ‘M good pet. See the more hits get taken, the harsher this gets. Your sucking in smoke from already burnt flower. Tastes like rubbish. So we wait. See if you want more first. Want this to be as pleasurable as possible for you” And she didn’t have to see him to know he had his lips curled in that lascivious smile or have that greedy look in his eyes.   
She felt his cock growing on the outside of her thigh, twitching against her and she was honestly surprised it had taken that long. It had seemed like he was always up for her. 

She relaxed against him, pressing all of her weight against that solid sculpted chest, and boldly grabbed ahold of him, fisting him around the base and tugging on him in a long hard stroke.   
“Buffy” He moaned breathily, bucking into her hand   
“Feels good baby. Love the way you grip me”  
She drew her fist tighter around his generous length up and down in a steady rhythm. It might be the first time she’d done with the intention of just letting him lay back and feel rather than trying to get him off as soon as possible. For the first time she just relaxed and also allowed herself to lay back and just stroke him, listening to the chorus of soft moans and gasps and the pleasant sighs he made under her touch. There was no want to need or any sort of urgency, for once she found herself just enjoying this, the moment.   
And even now the thought had her wet as she stroked him, felt the marvel of soft skin over such hardness, something all for her. She played with him a bit, experimenting with the force of her grip, wrapping around him tightly or open palming him to see which elicited more noise. As it turned out, he wasn’t particularly picky about it. She wasn’t sure how long she’d gone about that, soothed by his near constant sounds of approval. All she knew was that one moment everything was clear and the next her head felt fuzzier and things started to melt away. She was aware of where she was, of who she was with, of what they were doing, but everything felt a bit more….more something. She couldn’t describe it. The sheets beneath her seemed to become more luxurious, swaddling her flesh in a fluid softness that made her want to roll around in them like a small child.   
It was then she realized that everything going on outside this room right now was kind of a far-off dream, no worries, and she realized the smoke had taken effect. 

She glided her hand along the top of him one last time before stopping, picking herself up and climbing over his thigh to turn around and face him.   
“I think I’m stoned” She paused to consider and then started to giggle. “God that sounds lame doesn’t. Announcing it like that”  
He chuckled  
“I’d say you are. What it feel like pet. Describe it for me?”  
“I feel all floaty and my head feels funny, like it’s been stuffed with cotton. I’m kinda dizzy but not like sick dizzy and I feel warm”  
And don’t forget super horny. That warm temperature has less to with the fact that your skins all warm and more so to do with wanting to get on with the experiment and see how it feels now.   
“Yeah?” Anything else?” He coaxed “Want to know everything”  
“Oh yes” She whispered huskily “Seems you were right. I’m all hot for you. Tingly all over” She watched his eyes rake over the hard lines of her and the soft curves, lingering on her crotch and breasts before meeting her eyes again with this little knowing smile of his face and…  
“…Oh my god you knew! You…You…cheater. You were just phishing!” She exclaimed dramatically poking the hardness of his chest.   
“Guilty as charged” curling his tongue behind his teeth. “A bloke just wants to hear he’s wanted”  
“You didn’t have to cheat me into saying it…your very much wanted” She replied tracing little patterns on the planes of his pecs, circling around one nipple without touching. Fluttering fingers played over his strong shoulders, the swell of his prominent clavicle and the hollows underneath. She trailed her finger down his sides, following the curved dip of every rib and through the space between each and every bulging muscle that made up his abs.   
“Your very pretty” She finally spoke, her mouth dry and throat hoarse and she wasn’t sure of how nervous she was with him or if it was a side effect of smoking. “I don’t think I tell you enough…actually I don’t think I tell you at all. Sorry about that. But you are. Pretty I mean….in a totally manly way of course. You’ve got all these hard muscles, muscles I didn’t even know existed and yet your skin is so so soft, like white silk” She murmured continuing to touch him, scratching over his Adams apple, making him shudder. She cupped his jaw and swept the pad of her thumb over the cut glass lines of those perfect cheekbones. “And these, whoa man. They’ve got these Pavlov effect on me. Every time I see em I get soaked”  
“Buffy” He whispered softly, trying to interject, those lapis eyes trained on her, but she kept going.   
“I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a better-looking man in all my existence. And I know that’s not a lot of time compared to you because hello, not even 21 yet, still a girl and full of hormones. And you…you come storming into my life, trying to kill me and all I can think about is how hot the British vampire is. Granted I’ve never gone for the bad boy look before but how could I not with that sexy accent. And all the black and silver just suits you so well. It brings out that moonlight skin and sapphire eyes”  
She leaned into him, lips hovering over his  
“And your lips. How in the hell do you manage such soft lips? Not like I’ve been making much with the smoochies lately but no one else had lips as soft as yours. I never want to stop kissing them”  
“Then don’t kitten. Love hearing you praise me like this. Love those pouty lips. Please don’t stop” He begged  
And wow how hot was that?   
Now I get why he was affected when I told him please. Such power behind a tiny word  
“Don’t stop what? Talking to you or kissing you? I can’t do both you know” She teased  
“Fuck” he groaned Eyes screwed shut and clearly taking the time to decide, which had another flare of arousal course through her.   
“Snogging then luv” His voice starting to get ragged  
“Desperation is a good look for you Spike. I think maybe I’ll enjoy this”

She couldn’t wait either though, needing to feel him against her. She pressed her lips to his softly, audibly groaning as she did so to which he eagerly responded, groaning back. She loved the way he kissed, like he was putting everything he had into it. It didn’t matter if the kiss was searing and brutal or soft and chaste or a mix of the two like it was right now. If they were kissing it seemed that Spike made it his life’s mission to make sure it was the best damn thing possible. And he did that with whatever he did whether it was kissing her, fucking her, eating her out, every single time it was like this. For a man without a soul, who supposedly couldn’t feel emotion, he was so full of passion she was so sure that there was a larger chance of him bursting from it then bursting into flame from the sun. Whoever said he couldn’t love was an idiot.   
Oh wait dummy. That was you. You’re the one who said that. Not even a day ago you were convinced of it. Funny how things change so quickly  
When he parted the seam of her lips with his tongue she practically melted, had no fight against him and let him in. He overtook her and she could feel his want for her, the way he teased her with that deviled tongue, curling it around her own, devouring her. And she was only spurred on by the soft grunts and gasps he made as the two of them fought in their favorite kind of dance. Every so often she would pull away to fill her lungs with previous oxygen and the intent to breakaway so she could drop down and cover him with her mouth. But every time she drew in enough air he grabbed the back of her head again and pulled her back in and like a magnet she was helpless in pulling away from him.   
“Little minx, making me choose. Make you pay later”  
She eeped as she clashed back against him, wrapping shaky around his slender neck, fingers tunneling through his hair, tugging on the soft curls there. He groaned into her mouth, which of course only made her grip harder. Shed learned very quickly that the fastest way to drive Spike out of his mind desperate was to incorporate a little, or a lot depending on the circumstance of physical pain. It drove him wild. Shed known that when she first started sleeping with him and even before that, (there was that time with the chains) that he had a kinky side a mile wide. They’d indulged a little bit. And by that she meant using extra physical force including but not limited to hitting, punching and a little bit of biting on her part. 

He’d suggested other things of course but she’d never wanted to take him up on it before. Not before today. Tonight probably wasn’t the best time to start either because she figured they had some things to talk about once they were sobered up…but she wasn’t ruling anything out.   
When she pulled away from him again she gave him her best impression of that thing he did with his tongue  
“Oh Big Bad. Who says you get to be in charge here?” She crooned licking her swollen lips  
“Christ” He muttered eyes flittering shut and head falling back against the headboard.   
She sat back and ran her fingers across his skin, following the patterns of spiderweb veins and arteries long dead and filled with borrowed blood.   
“Finish your bowl Spike. I want to get back to our experiment”  
“Don’t need two hands to make you cum sweetheart”  
She gave a short throaty laugh  
“Don’t I know it. But…I want both. Cause it’s not all about cumming is it? I just want to enjoy this, and I know what those hands are capable of when they work together”  
“Buffy…”  
“And besides, wasn’t it you that told me it’s not all about the finish. To slow down and just enjoy the journey of it?  
“Did say that didn’t I. Wasn’t sure you were listening” His voice growing rougher every time he spoke.   
“I wasn’t before. Well…I was. I just didn’t want to hear the message” She paused “This is new. And…and we have a lot to talk about after thus. And I promise that we will. After this whole mess with Dawn is taken care of” She rambled “Does that make sense? Am I making sense? I feel like I’m all jumbled and the words I’m saying aren’t making sense because you’re looking at me funny and oh now I’m just rambling”  
He chuckle and the sound melted her heart  
“Makes perfect sense. And you are very thoroughly stoned pet. ‘S a very fetching look on you”  
“I feel funny”  
“Bad funny? Is this no good? Want to stop now?”  
She shook her head with vigor  
“God no. I feel great. Free. It’s just different this feeling. Hence the funny”

“Want more? He offered “Plenty here”  
“Oh…yeah I think I’d like that. But just a little bit”  
She watched him more closely this time as he brought the glass bowl to his lips. Lit another portion of the greens with a fluid grace that came with a century of practice, letting the flame of his trusty Zippo barely touch the surface as his inhalations pulled it the rest of the way. She watched the way his cheeks hollowed, accenting those sexy cheekbones as he took a sudden intake of air after releasing the carb again. His eyes closed as he took the intoxicating smoke and covered the singing plant with the butt of his lighter. He held it there for a moment, chest puffed out and she was close enough to see little curls of smoke coming from his nose.   
Without being told she leaned forward, her nose bumping his as she claimed his lips, opened her mouth, and accepted his willing gift of smoke, feeling the tug of his smile against her. He gave her less than last time and pulled back after she’d taken her fill.

Once again she let the heavy smoke crowd her lungs and let it settle there, cool, and heavy until they ached with the threat of carbon dioxide poisoning, tars and resins clinging to her and she blew out the smoke in a long stream.   
She noticed he was staring at her intensely with the same look he got any time she turned him on, eyes dark and wanting and his cock was bobbing, cool and heavy against his belly.   
“What? Seeing me smoke gets you hot too?  
“Everything about you gets me hot luv” He replied matter o factly. “Just summat about smoking with a bird that does it good for me. Prolly the snogging. Quite fancy that”  
“I can see that” She mumbled idly, no longer focused on his face. That urge to play with him came back in force until it was the only thing her fuzzy brain could think about.   
“Smoke the rest” She ordered softly  
“And you luv?”  
She gave him one more kiss on those perfect lips before dropping down low and laying kisses against his abs and hips, along both inguinal curves and the insides of his thoughts and finally one right on the top of his pretty cock.   
“Oh Buffy” He groaned “Really know how to indulge a man’s fantasy don’t you”  
“A fantasy Spike? Your fantasy is a girl sucking on your pretty cock while you smoke?”

God she loved the look he was giving her right now. That starstruck gaze that lit up those stormy eyes.   
“Got a few others” He murmured slowly “But gotta say. Loving the hell of this right now”  
“Good…now get got the smokey and I’ll get to the sucky” She said with a sultry smile  
He groaned in satisfaction, resting back against the headboard.   
On and ordinary day she would have been intimidated by this, not having a lot of experience would do that to a girl, even if that girl happened to be the Slayer. But she found that he smoke had quelled any and all fears that normally ran rampant in her head and in turn boosted her confidence and her desire to do this thing for him. 

She had never taken the time to look at him before, really look at him that was. Sure she’d looked at his cock before, it was mostly unavoidable when the man was that well-endowed. Not to mention he didn’t have a modest bone in his body and oftentimes went around his crypt completely naked. Though she realized now that he was just so comfortable in his own skin that he just didn’t give a fuck. Against his smaller stature even his prick was a rebel. He was definitely the biggest in terms of length and girth compared to anyone else she’d been with. It was beyond amazing too because he knew how to work each and every inch so that he gave her the most pleasure he possibly could. The only downside was that she had yet to be able to deep throat the guy. Not that she had cared enough to before, but she did now. 

She started again by laying another gentle kiss upon his engorged head, red and seemingly ready to burst and warmer than any other part of his tepid body. He let out a soft sign which turned into a throaty moan as she lapped at him; tasting him, like salt and earth before experimentally delving her tongue into his weeping slit. He whimpered above her as she played with him. She circled the top of her tongue around and around and around him, exploring the strange crest of him, graphing the ridges of his swollen head and pressing into the dip of that sensitive spot on the underside of him but never taking him in.   
“Christsake Buffy” He cursed “Drivin me around the bend with that”  
She flashed a smile, heard him mutter something under his breath and before he had a chance to run his damn mouth again, she slowly enveloped him.   
“Fuck” He swore “Fuck you’re so bloody hot”  
She ran her hands up his legs, palming the silky skin from his knees to his flanks and dug her fingertips to massage the corded muscle there.   
She heard the click of the lighter again and his inhalation of breath as he took another hit and somehow even that sound had become erotic. She figured she had another couple of hits before he was finished with the thing and had nothing to do with his hands and her time to go and explore him was up. 

Spike being an incredibly physical creature needed to have his hands all over her while they were together, or he was driven out of his mind. It was so wonderful to have someone who wanted to do what they were doing, who found it more important than their own satisfaction to please her compared to the obligate touches of her formers gave her only in reciprocation to her own advances. It was also one of the easiest way to have fun and torture him, by restraining his hands or ordering him to not touch her. 

She went slow inch by inch, her lips sliding over the silk of him, mapping him out, her tongue flicking over the vein on the sensitive underside. She could practically feel him vibrating underneath her in time, with his steady score of soft gasps and moans.   
She swallowed him gently, bobbing up and down in no particular rush and with each descent taking a little bit more and a little bit more.   
“Feels so good kitten. Feels so good” He murmured appreciatively. “Enjoying yourself down there?”  
She took him deeper and hummed an agreement, earning a thoroughly satisfied ‘bloody hell’ and moan combination that had her eager to continue her conquest of him. She was surprised that performing fellatio was such a turn on her for her. After all the horror stories she had heard from her friends back at Hemery, she figured it was something to just do and be nice to whatever guy she was with at the time. She found out quickly that it was quite the opposite and found herself soaked and wanting more by the end. And despite her former friends warnings of the atrocities of an uncut cock, how gross and messy they wer,. Spike’s was perfect. He was surprisingly hygienic, always clean and trim and there was none so big or beautiful or sensitive as he was. Maybe it was an imprint thing. Angel had been the same after all and she decidedly liked them better. It was so much more enjoyable to have someone who was so incredibly responsive. Probably had to do with that little bit of skin that kept the big guy all wrapped up. And it had some other benefits too. 

The next time she came up, she sucked in that extra skin between her teeth and nibbled him, gently at first but increasing her pressure as his pants become more desperate.   
“You have such a pretty cock” She murmured huskily against him, pressing kisses down the underside and making her way down to his heavy sac, wasting no time in indulging him there too.   
“Bloody hell Buffy” He ground out “Such a gorgeous thing you are and what a wonderfully dirty mouth you got on you. Treating me like this and praisin my prick. You luv this don’t you naughty little thing” He blissfully rambled  
She loved the way he looked right now, eyes half lidded, hips rising and falling in time with the long slow licks she was currently favoring him with and shuddering whenever she suckled one of his testicles into her mouth rolling it around softly before popping it out and doing the same with the other.   
“I do” She rumbled back, nudging her nose into him, curling her tongue up and around to lick at the underside. “You’re so soft here” And then snorted audibly “It’s probably the only place your actually soft”  
“Damn right it is. Fuck” He swore “Knew you’d be good at this. Knew there was more to you then whatever those gits expected of you. They didn’t appreciate you precious. Couldn’t appreciate your strength, your appetite, the need you had buried within that pretty blonde package. But I do. Christ kitten lemme have it. Whatever you got. Whatever you want. You give it to me”

Her eyes fluttered close, listening to the timbre of his voice, that street punk accent that had her thighs clenching together whenever he spoke to her like this, low and dirty.   
“Oh I will Spike” Kissing her way up the underside of his cock tasting him one more time before sucking him down deep.   
“Fuckin hell Buffy, oh Christ that sweet mouth. Your all full up baby. All full up. You want more?”  
She hummed in agreement around him and she watched those eyes of blue cross and flutter close. She heard him muttering under his breath as she worked him, this time focused solely on taking him deeper, laving his underside with her tongue. She was hoping to pour all of her hard to say words out into something that made sense to him, not quite a declaration of love but maybe a proclamation that there were indeed some feelings here. And if nothing else, to just show him that she enjoyed doing this for him. 

As she came down on him she felt the gentle flex of his hips allowing her to take more and more at an unrushed rhythm. She took him in, little bits at a time until he was in the back of her throat. On the next swing of his hips she laved at his swollen head, sucked on him hard before taking him down all the way until the soft curls at the base of him brushed up against her.   
“Oh Christ. Soddin hell. Fuck Slayer” And the string of curses just kept coming. She felt powerful making a master vampire, a powerful creature like him reduced to expletives. When she looked up the line of him, briefly self-conscious about not being able to do this the right way or looking silly while doing so…well all that changed when she saw the look in his eyes. His gaze, cobalt blue and flecked with gold were flicking back and forth between her own eyes and the sight of him buried in her throat. He made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded like a broken cry. 

She didn’t let him have reprieve, not that she wanted this over but because she wanted to see him ride the throes of pleasure. Wanted to see what would happen when he was completely lost to it. He already looked like he was halfway there. The thought, empowering and heady had another wave of lust wash over her, felt it tug deep at her core and she could feel the insides of her thighs covered in the result of it. He stilled momentarily, nostrils flaring.   
“That all for me pet?” He took another deep lungful of air, the movement reminding her of a snake scenting the air.   
“Look at you, all flushed and rosy and dripping for me. This make you hot doesn’t it. Slayer likes my pretty cock down her throat”  
She groaned around him in reply and started working him again, not wanting to wait any longer. Was it normal for a girl to want to suck her man’s cock like this? So much that her proverbial floodgates had completely opened, and she could feel the seeping wetness running down her thighs. She worked him gently, taking back control but not resisting when his hips moved against her.   
She heard the click of his lighter again and finally he set down the glass pipe oat the table of the side.   
She had no idea how long this went on for, time seemed to have been lost to her, but at some point his panting became more ragged. His whispering of ‘oh hell’ and ‘oh fuck’ picked up until they sounded like chanting prayers.   
She could feel him twitch within her, his swollen glans hot and pulsing. He was so close, so very close and she needed to see him fall over. She took him in deep and swallowed hard.   
“Fuck. Ugh. Buffy. Again. Again. Again” He cried, hips arcing.   
So she did. Again and again and again, riding the waves of his arcing hips until he came with a guttural cry. She felt him pour down her throat, a seemingly endless rush of pure Spike until he was falling back against his headboard, completely spent. 

She felt him start to wilt, not that it would last long, but it was an intoxicating feeling know she had made him flag for at least a little bit.   
“Soddin hell Buffy, you’re a bloody natural at that” He rumbled after a moment of just breathing and regarding her with content eyes “Who names their kid Buffy anyways” He chortled  
“Who names themself Spike!? I didn’t have a choice in my name. You did you dork” She countered raising herself to sit back on her heels.   
“Cause William strikes terror into the heart of every milksop Lord and Lady” he drawled raising a scarred eyebrow.   
“William the Bloody sounds good. Scary” She admitted shyly.   
“But I didn’t give myself that one did I?”  
“I mean really though? Spike?  
“Was bloody terrifying at the time. Wankers didn’t know what they had coming to em and at least I didn’t pick the soddin name Angelus. Bloody poof”  
And the man pouted, Actually fucking pouted and she didn’t know whether it was infuriating or hot.. Except her body decided for her as she felt that pout tug on the imaginary string that all seemed tied to her clit. And of course he picked up immediately on her shift from playfully angry to intensely turned on.   
“Dunno what’s got you all hot and bothered pet, but you smell divine”  
She made to protest but he cut her off   
“I’ve waited long enough now. You’ve had your taste. I want mine”  
He held out her hand to her, soft fingertips reaching towards her, the delicate undersides of his forearms exposed. The look in his eye was a mixture of lustful hunger, stated contentment and that playful gleam that was purely Spike.   
She reached out and placed her hand in his, cool and firm and was gently tugged towards him, moving up and up and up until his hands were splayed out on her hips. He’d flattened himself out to the bed, propped up and looking rather comfortable with a pillow tucked under his head with her naked self up with him at the head of the bed, positioned perfectly so that her sodden pussy hovered just above his pretty face. 

She felt exposed being spread wide open for him and allowing herself to be seen from this angle, but the way he was looking up at her right now, awestruck gaze flicking between her and her cunt made her forget right quick what her fears about this had been.   
“Beautiful” He whispered reverently. Those strong hands gliding around her fevered skin, his right holding her steady by cupping her ass while his left pried apart her pussy lips.   
“Christ you have a gorgeous cunny. So pink and soft and dripping all for me. Need your sweetness. Need to taste. Come here baby, come closer”  
“What do you…”  
“Ride my face” He commanded huskily, needily  
“You…want to?”  
“Do I want your heavenly thighs wrapped around my noggin, squeezing me while I get to drink your sweet honey and watch you come again and again and again” He spoke deliriously.   
She felt herself warm all over. How he managed to be insanely crude and endearing at the same time she would never understand, or why that even turned her on, but it did.   
He licked those sinful lips of his as she started to lower herself to him and threw her head back, breathy moan tumbling from her throat as he wasted no time delving that wicked tongue of his through her soaked folds. He teased her at first, using only the tip of his tongue along her outer lips, skirting around her entrance and completely avoiding her swollen little button. She could practically feel the jerk’s smirk when she tried to rock her hips unexpectantly to catch him off guard. But then she moved in time with him, settling into a languid pace, his soft content grunts and groans her own personal metronome.   
She would have never believed that a man would be that into going down on a girl, she’d no reason to believe it after hearing her friends talk about how their guy did it out of obligation and her past experiences certainly didn’t shine a good light on it. 

But in true Spike fashion he’d continued to surprised her. There was no way that this was an obligation to him, not the way he looked right now. He wanted to be here. He wanted to be doing this. Blissed out, small smile tugging at the corner of his lips and mouth as he worked her like he was kissing her on the lips. Passionate and devoted and eager for me. He brought her off slowly the first time, dragging the flat of his tongue of her clit in unhurried strokes. She hadn’t known it was coming until her thighs were trembling and she was crying out his name softly, riding the gentle but intense wave. 

The second was something she was a bit more used to, the fevered flicking of his tongue against her clit, still pulsing and recovering from her first orgasm. He manipulated her with perfect practice, bringing her right to the edge, had her grasping onto the headboard until her knuckles turned white and then left her wanting when he turned his attention to lapping up the perpetual flow of her spending’s. She was in a suspended high, both literally and figuratively and the floating feeling of being on cloud nine and the cottony feeling of her head from the marijuana had her in a euphoric daze. When he finally did push her over the edge, his fingers were digging into her hips as he stilled her, low throaty groaning come from his throat as he brought her down with gentle swipes of his tongue against her hole and the undersides of her thighs.   
“My gorgeous sun nymph. Look at you glow” He murmured “Could do this all night. Be happy to. Love to see you shine. Just like the sun you are, gonna burn me up”  
“Spike please” She whimpered  
“What is it sweet. What do you want?”  
“Again. Please again”  
He growled   
“Want to come again do you? Greedy little girl aren’t you?”  
She ground down on him, never happier for a man who didn’t need to breathe and for the sounds he was making right now. The obscene slurping and wet smacks of his lips against her equally wet pussy lips. It would have wigged her out before but now it was only making her wetter if possible, which only made to spur him on.   
“Aren’t you?” He growled again. “Say it”  
He had her so turned on, so out of her mind with pleasure as she floated through her sex like high.  
“I’m a greedy little girl” She groaned  
“That right you are. Fucking hell. Gonna give it to you good Buffy”  
She was being licked and sucked and brought to oblivion and yet she still felt like something was missing. Spoke was hard as a rock behind her, no doubt bobbing away, swollen, and hell…was she actually drooling? Was the thought of his gorgeous cock, thick and cool making her drool? Was that a moan that just came from her mouth? She wanted him now. She reached out behind her, bracing herself with one hand as her right darted out and wrapped a first tightly around him and starting to pump him in time with his own tempo.   
“Bloody hell” He ground out, a dark growl ripping through his throat and is incessant pace halted for a moment as he arced into her tight grip,   
“That it luv. That’s it. Nice and tight yeah? Fuck”  
It didn’t take long for the third to hit her, with her fist pumping him for all he was worth, moans and curses spewing from his filthy mouth, his efforts to make her come again seemed doubled, if not tripled. It seemed even in bed, highly under the influence of psychotropic drugs there was always going to be competition between them. What they had was complicated and sometimes messy, but it was there’s and she found herself adducted to it to him, every day. When he finally brought her over the edge, she came screaming this time.   
“Spike. Spike. Spike” She chanted, head thrashing back and forth as he refused to let up, his tongue still wildly flicking at her oversensitive clit. Her whole body was shaking with overwhelming pleasure. Her brain felt like it was shorting out.   
“Fuck. Buffy” She heard him snarl. His eyes flashed to his and found he’d vamped underneath her. It was only then she realized by the whites of her hand how hard she was gripping his poor cock. She looked down into those golden eyes, transfixed by them. Only a day ago she would have been disgusted, climbed off his without hesitation and left him there But now…? Had his face always looked that sexy? The deep ridges of his brow, the way he still maintained those stunning cheekbones. Even his fangs seemed more…inviting. This was the first time he’d ever lost control before. He’d never vamped with her before. She made to release him from her grip, but he snarled from under her.   
“Don’t you fuckin dare” He hissed  
“Ah Spike!” She gasped feeling his sharpened teeth touch lightly against her flesh as he increased his pace.   
“Harder” He grunted, pistoning in her grip now and oh how gone she was for him as she increased her grip and he howled in pleasure instead of pain.   
“Christ Buffy. Harder”   
She wasn’t sure how much harder she could grab him without really hurting him, but she clenched around him until he was nearly screaming in pleasure, his cock a deep purple.   
“Coming Buffy. Christ gonna pop. Oh Christ. Buffy. Buffy”  
Within another few hard tugs she felt him still and then quake beneath her, roaring as he came. She felt the great spurts of him against her hand as she continued to pump him as cried out her own released as he coaxed another shattering orgasm from her.

She wearily opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them to see that he had melted back to his handsome human face and that said beautiful face was completely and utterly drenched in her. He smiled dopily up at her, breathing shallow pants and stroking at her flank.   
“Seems I need to clean up a bit” A cocky smirk spreading across his face.   
She flushed and slapped slightly at his leg and climbed off him,  
“Stop…”She mumbled “Gross weirdo”  
“Delicious” He purred, and she couldn’t help but tremble at his voice.   
He pulled himself up, ran fingers through his untamed hair and swung up and off the bed, making is way over to the opposite corner of the room where he grabbed a record from his shelf and put it on the vinyl player with practiced ease, setting the needle down and filling the crypt with the upbeat sounds of bass and steel drums.   
“Little mood music?” She questioned.   
Surprised he was playing something other than the hard thrashing punk music that he was so wild about, or that he even owned something so mellow.   
“It’s statistically proven that you can’t be angry or sad when listening to reggae, and Marley is the king of that pet”  
“Who would have thought you listen to something other than those Pistol guys you like so much”  
“What you got against em?”  
“I know they don’t make great sex music” She retorted  
“And that Spears chippie does?” He scoffed  
She frowned and stuck her tongue out. And she was shocked at how easily this was. More of this playful banter that was still very much them but something…more. He then made his way back to the side of his bed and poured himself a glass of blood from his decanter and chased it down with a shot of Glenfiddich.   
“You look comfy” She noted  
“Jus relaxing pet” He replied, pouring another shot holding the glass to his lips. “Want anything?”  
She shook her head.   
“I’m good. Just want…”  
He quirked an eyebrow and before throwing back the shot.   
“Just want more of you” She whispered coyly, crawling over to the side of the bed and looking up the length of his naked body, pale and chiseled.   
She watched as the semi he was sporting, immediately rose to full hardness, jutting proudly from his thatch of honey blonde hair, heavy sac tight against his body.   
“Soddin hell Buffy. Damn thing is never gonna get a chance to relax” He groaned taking another shot. She briefly wondered if he was in pain.   
“And this is a bad thing? Where’s that vampire stamina I’ve heard so much about huh?” She tested running a manicured finger down his chest.   
“Never a bad thing with you pet. Give us a tic” He rumbled in response, setting the glass down and   
But she didn’t want to wait any longer, she wanted him now. She rose up to him, capturing his lips in a searing kiss, slanting her mouth against him and drawing his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking and pulling on him. He pulled away first, apparently more aware that she needed air then she did.   
“Forget I said anything. Christ you’re a bloody menace”  
“Its your fault!” She pouted “You’re the one who got me all stoned and made my sex drive go through the roof. I don’t think I’ve ever felt as horny as I do now in my entire life….and I once had a spell cast on me where I literally fucked all night and almost died from it!”  
He chuckled darkly  
“Lucky bloke”  
“It was Riley” She frowned  
“How was that? Shagging Captain Carboard all night? He scoffed “Probably the longest the boy has ever gone”  
“I was under a spell you jerk I don’t really remember much”  
“We were under a spell. Remember much of that?” He asked and it sounded like there was genuine curiosity there, and the faint tremble of insecurity.   
She was never going to get over how…human he could be. This vampire who been around for over a century and a half and had seen the rise and fall of empires, been a part of the great wars of their time, whose words to live by were death, glory and sod all else. He was also the same man who struggled to find his place amongst three other legendary vampires, who had been ridiculed in both life and death by the people around him, whose heart had been broken again and again by the women he loved. Because despite his bad boy act, the smoking and drinking, the feigned indifference hidden away under fluttering leather and spiked wrist bands, all Spike ever wanted was his love returned. She hadn’t wanted to believe it. Didn’t want to accept that the evil creatures of the night could exhibit such passion, such devotion, such love for one single women for over a hundred years. She felt that passion, the warmth, and the feeling of security when she was wrapped tightly in his arms, both now and when they were influenced by Willow’s spell. She had wanted to be there and stay with him like that forever, wanted to marry him. She remembered the feelings she had for him then and they felt the same as they were now. So she finally answered him, she knew she meant the words  
“Every minute” She said with a pleasant sigh  
He seemed pleased with the answer, cocking his head in that endearing way to regard her with quiet are but said no more.   
“Come here” She murmured.  
He obeyed her command without thought and forced to her back as he climbed onto his bed, moving them so that she was pressed into the soft pillows as he prowled over her like some pale lean jungle cat with a dark gleam in those steel blue eyes.   
“How do you want it” She questioned between heavy pants  
He cocked his head again, regarding her with a searching look in his eyes  
“Your askin me?”  
“I’m certainly not asking anyone else”  
“Forgive a fella for being confused, not used to this give and take kind of deal”  
She winced. Ouch. She supposed she deserved that. She probably deserved more than that for all of the horrible things shed said and done to hi,.   
“Well I’m asking now. This…whatever this is. Its more than just me. Its 50% you. So…pick your poison. What drives Spike wild?”  
The lost look in his eyes was quickly replaced with something more familiar, that raw hunger, that one that sent simultaneous tingles down her spine that warned her of the dangerous demon with him and shivers down to her clit, reminding her of the pleasantries of the man that was hovering above her.   
A breathy hasp escaped her as he leaned in close and took a deep inhalation of her and nuzzled into the crook of her neck.   
“Anything we do drives me completely off my trolley pet”  
“I know. Not that kind of crazy though. I want to know your favorite position”  
“Hmm already there luv. Jus like this” He murmured softly, pressing little kisses to the marked side of her neck, her clavicle and the junction of her shoulder   
“No really” She said with a shudder  
“You asked Slayer. This is my answer”  
“Your favorite position is plain ole missionary? I’m giving you free bounds to wrap me into whatever kinky pretzel of a position that you can come up with and you want the basic bitch of sex?”!”  
He chuckled  
“You tell anyone, and I’ll kill you for real” But his threat sounded anything but vicious. Rather he sounded nervous, guarded. She wondered why he had chosen this of all things, of all the depraved things she knew he was capable of and…oh…  
You don’t want depraved. Your kinky as hell Spike and that’s fun for you but all you’ve ever wanted was to be loved. You’ve told me as much. You want the intimacy don’t you? I’ve never given it to you before and you’re afraid this is the only chance I’ll give you  
She reached up and cupped his face, brushing the pad of her thumb against his jawline and he nuzzled into her and she swore the sound coming from his chest was something akin to a purr. 

She guided him down to her and kept her arms locked around his neck as he leaned down to cover her mouth again. This time full of the same Spike brand of passion but with a gentleness that made her want to cry. His sweet kisses were accompanied by softer and wispier moan and when he entered her she found herself moaning at the rightness of it. The way he perfectly fit into her, cool and snug and was it just her or did she feel…complete like this? When she raised her hips to meet his they moved in perfect sync, hips flush together, hard muscle meeting soft curves and his lean compact form weight down just the right amount that she felt safe as houses.   
She felt like they were moving forever. With the calming sounds of Bob Marley in the background and the euphoric nature of the ganja she wasn’t sure how long they were going like this and she didn’t care. She wanted it to last forever. For the first time she wasn’t rushing towards her climax and forcing him to his. It was a slow and steady build, mutual and maybe the most erotic thing she had ever experienced. She could see now why people chased this feeling, did things like have sex while they were high.   
“Blood helly” He swore softly. “Buffy. Little luv. How perfect you are”   
He dipped his head to kiss at the hollow of her throat, suckling at her salty skin.   
“Spike” She mewled, shivers rippling across her body as he left tails of tiny kisses across her torso and plucked softly at her hardened nipples. When he kissed her mouth again, she melted. Lost herself in the taste of him, rich oaky whiskey, blood and smoke. She buried her fingers at the nape of his neck and pressed tightly against him to feel all that lithe muscle squeezing him tightly with a flutter of internal muscles.   
“Christ pet your so blood strong. Feels so good when you strangle me like that. Trying to make me cum faster?”

She pressed her forehead to his.   
“No. Just trying to make you feel good” She whispered  
He sucked in a heavy breath that sounded suspiciously like he was trying not to cry.   
“Feels incredible. You feel like bloody heaven. So wet. So warm. So incredibly tight. Could stay here forever. Love your pretty cunt. Love you sweetling”  
She still couldn’t find herself able to say the words back. She wasn’t sure if this was love. Maybe it could be but much like Spike didn’t say thing she didn’t mean. But he didn’t seem upset by her lack of words at all, so she left them to hang up in the hair.   
She felt it build slowly, emanating from that place deep within her and radiating out to all of her extremities. He seemed to be right there too, breaths coming out in short little pants and moans like he was holding on by a thread and it pushed her gently over the edge. It was earth shattering but not in a screaming kind of way. She came with a mewling cry as her body shuddered underneath him, a full body orgasm like she’d never felt before.   
“That’s it luv. That’s it. Gimme everything you got. I’ve got you” He continued to pump into her at a slow at a steady pace, drawing out her orgasm until she was pliant and stated underneath him. With one final squeeze while he was seated fully inside her, she brought him over the edge too.   
“Uggh. Buffy. Christ” He whispered harshly against her neck, biting gently with blunt teeth. It should have wigged her out, she should have pushed him away, but she couldn’t think, could only feel how wonderful it felt. But it was over before she knew it and he pressed a single linger kiss and then pulled away, propping himself up on his elbow but staying buried in her

“So…?”He murmured kissing salt from her skin  
“So?   
“What’s the verdict Slayer. Everything it’s cracked up to be?  
“Oh right. The experiment” She mumbled hazily, still recovering. “I think…”  
A piercing ring cut her off

“Spike! Off! Or grab my phone”  
She wasn’t surprised when he just stretched out across her and grabbed it from the side table.   
“Harris” He spoke flatly as he handed it to her.   
She flipped it open lightning fast  
“Xan. Please tell me you have some good news”  
“Whoa Buffster. What’s up? You sound all…different”  
“Oh um..I’m…tired….can’t sleep. Like usual”  
A beat  
“Well you should let Captain Peroxide take up the full patrol next time. Let the vampire be out at night while you maybe catch some Zzs’s. I’m sure he’d jump at the chance to do something for you”  
She slapped away a Spike hand that was currently giving a two fingered salute in her general direction.   
“I’ll get right on that” She retorted sarcastically. “But more importantly. Please tell me you’ve found her”  
There was another pause   
“We don’t physically have her yet, but we know where she is. We made the right call in not sending you Buff. Eventually she picked up the phone for me and we were able to hold her on the call long enough for Will to work her techno mojo. Seems you were right about her heading to LA”  
“Actually that was Spike”  
“I’m gone pretend you didn’t say that and just blame it on the tiredness”  
“Xander” She warned  
“Sorry Buff. Just gives me the heebie jeebies hearing you say Spike did something useful. I mean…its Spike”  
“Off topic again” She growled  
“Right…well we should have her soon. When we do…and with your permission of course, we were actually think about saying here for the night since it’s so late. Get a nice room let the extended family try and calm her down and maybe knock some sense into her before we hand he back over to you”

A day ago she would have demanded that they came right back so she could lay into her sister. Been so insistent that she would be the one to take care of the problem, like always. Maybe it was her friends finally getting through other or the encouragement from Spoke. Hell maybe it was just the weed, but for once she felt at peace with the decision to let her friends and the people around her help take a handle of it.   
Not that she wasn’t thoroughly pissed off at Willow for what she’d done or anxious about what the Trio was up to and why they had yet to stop them or the overwhelming fear of bills piling up and the social services ready to take Dawnie away from her but…right now…it all seemed…more manageable. She guessed she owed that to the vampire who happened to still be buried deep within her.   
“That sounds like a plan”  
“I mean it really just makes sense Buff. Your tired. Dawn’s tired. Were tired. It’s a tired fest. We should probably just..oh…you said yes..? Will she said yes!”  
“Just keep me posted. Let me know what happens, good or bad. But text me. Don’t bother calling me because”  
“You’ll be asleep. Right. Good. You deserve that”  
“Right..sleep” She mumbled knowing that her entire body was flushing as she gazed into those playful blue eyes as he purposefully shift his hips within her, somehow managing to strike that bundle of nerves that that had her gasping over the phone  
“You all right?” She heard the male voice on the other line and she playfully slapped the wrist of the bleached vampire above her  
“Fine. Just…got into a tussle. I’m a little sore”  
His smirk grew a mile wide  
“Well…eat something. Get some rest. I’ll text you”  
“Thanks Xander and thanks again for going to get her. I appreciate you guys”  
“Anytime Buffster. Talk to you soon”  
When she set the phone her gaze immediately snapped to him.   
“Your so bad” She grumbled, finding herself stroking fingers through his curls.   
“The baddest baby” He returned, curling his tongue behind his teeth. 

“Spike?”  
“Yeah pet?” He murmured, settling down and idly stroking her hair  
“I’m really hungry” She whispered timidly.   
He chuckled   
“In the mood for something more satisfying then yogurt then? Burger and fries sound better?”  
“Yesss” She moaned in pleasure already thinking about the taste of yummy burgery goodness and crispy fries  
“Can we go now? Will you buy me dinner?”  
“Buy you…”He paused for a moment looking down and trying to read her  
“Did I stutter? Buy me dinner…and probably dessert. Can’t have a burger and fries without a milkshake. Now get off me. We need to get dressed”  
“Rather see you not” He grumbled looking down at her like he was ready to eat her. She gave him a knowing look and with a reluctant sigh he pulled from her, both groaning as he did so. The loss of him seeming so significant now.   
“To be clear. You want me to take you out and buy you nosh?”  
She rolled away, finding the remnants of her clothes scattered about and quickly threw them on.   
“If nosh means food then yes” She agreed throwing a glance to his groin and for once finding him completely flagged.   
“I know you’ve got a little blood in your brain for once”  
“Keep talking like that and it won’t be…Just trying to wrap my noggin around this”

She heard the sound of his heavy belt buckle and the zip of his jeans.   
“Not that hard. I want food. We’re going out and you’re going to buy it for me. No fang flashing, no nicking she said with air quotes and a terrible British accent. Good old fashion exchange of cash. You can do that right?”  
“Course. Anything for you luv….and..after?” He questioned after a long pause after they made their way out of his crypt.   
“And after…we come back here. You heard Xander, They won’t be back until tomorrow”  
“You wanna stay…here?” Those stunning blue eyes catching her as he threw her a sidelong glance, made only brighter from the reflecting moonlight. She felt something tug at her heard. Maybe she didn’t love him right this moment, but she could learn pretty quick.   
“Or my place” She shrugged nonchalantly. “House is empty remember?” Throwing him a devious little smirk.   
He stood stunned for a moment before he seemed to remember himself and threw back a smirk of his own.   
“Bloody right I do. Sides. Not sure if I’ve fully made my point about how shagging while stoned is brilliant”  
“Hmm your right. Don’t think I’ve gotten the point yet. I have been told I’m rather stubborn” She answered coyly “Might have to try out a few more positions”  
“Soddin hell Buffy. First one’s gonna be over a gravestone in a mo if you keep giving me that look”  
“Good thing I’m starving then” She chirped, pushing on ahead in front of him. 

In a weird turn of events she’d gone from hostile to happy in a matter of a few hours. After everything that was going on around her, she wasn’t sure if she was ever going to feel it again. She could feel them coming back slowly, emotions she thought she’d lost and all because of Spike and a little plant. 

“Hey Spike?”   
“Yeah pet”  
“I remember you saying earlier that the weed was good stuff because it had a name….you never told me what is was”  
He stopped, looked her dead in the eyes, mirth and mischief radiating from them and a cocky grin spread across his beautiful face.   
“Alaskan Thunderfuck” He said with a dirty whisper, licking the shell of her ear and continued walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs used in this chapter:  
> Bowl for Two - The Expendables   
> Is This Love - Bob Marley
> 
> Episode References:  
> Fool For Love  
> Older and Far Away  
> Where the Wild Things Are  
> Dead Things
> 
> I'm happy to announce I've already starting working on the next installment. Its going to be another AU All Human fic! Hope you enjoy!


	5. Drunk on a Plane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his bride to be cheated on him months before their wedding, Spike takes their intended honeymoon trip alone. On the flight there he meets Buffy, a flight attendant whose troubled past is similar to his own. The two bond and a trip to the mile high club ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another A/U all human fic. I have a lot of fun writing these!

Buyin' drinks for everybody  
But the pilot, it's a party  
Got this 737 rocking like a G6  
Stewardess is somethin' sexy  
Leanin' pourin' Coke and whiskey  
Told her about my condition  
Got a little mile-high flight attention

Dierks Bently

~

Wasn’t it just his soddin luck? Here he was with two perfectly good seats, first class at that, on a flight to Brazil meant for his dark princess and himself to celebrate their holy matrimony, their eternal binding and yet….

He was alone.

Not completely alone mind you. There were _other_ passengers running around the plane like little mice, scurrying to their seats and twittering on amongst themselves, but there was a distinct lack of a gorgeous woman by his side.

Drusilla, his pale beauty, his ripe wicked little plum and the love of his life had abandoned him. Cast him away in favor of another toy.

They’d been together him and Dru since secondary, met in a composition class and fell in love almost immediately. Textbook definition of love at first sight, at least on his part. He was sweet William Pratt back then. A soft-spoken nancy boy who always seemed to be at the bottom of the totem pole or butt end of a joke, most likely due to his extreme love of all things scholarly. And Dru was…ethereal. A goddess among mortals. He’d discovered quickly after meeting her that she was a bit mad. Always prattling on about the fairies she saw, the way that birds squawked their dark secrets and the heaps of porcelain dolls with their cloth bound eyes whispered ideas of grandeur. But bless her heart and soul she was a lovely thing.

He’d been immediately attracted to her artistic talent. Her paintings were beautiful; abstract and odd they told stories that no one else understood but the two of them. A secret language between maverick lovers. He was captivated by her dark imagination and her pure artists soul resonated deeply with his inner poet. She was the only person save for him mum who never ridiculed him for his poetry.

She was the first woman he’d lain with. His salvation. She was the catalyst that transformed him from William to Spike. His new identity was everything William was not. Loud, crass and violent, she molded him in her likeness. While retaining his love for the arts he adoptive a new image; cut his hair and bleached it, traded his tailored jackets and trousers for black shirts, skintight black jeans and a leather duster that had cost him over £250 and worth every quid. He developed a taste in music, especially for 70’s and 80’s punk and anarcho-punk. And he figured he go out in dressing the part and paint his nails black, wearing eyeline and getting anything everything he wanted pierced.

After finishing their schooling, because bugger anyone who said he didn’t care about his education, they packed up what they could fit into his DeSoto, left London and traveled. They made their way across Europe, the Middle East, Asia and everywhere in between. Anywhere they could take a car, they went. Exploring new cultures, new foods and a hell of a lot of new drugs they lived their lives to the absolute fullest. Never staying in one place for two long, their wanderlust taking them on new adventures every day. In the quiet moments when the two of them weren’t thoroughly pissed, high as a kite or shagging their godamned brains out, Spike wrote.

He had known since he was young that he wanted to be an author. Wanted to put himself and others in new worlds, give a chance to become something more, to escape. It had started when his mum read to him. Chaucer, Keats, Dickinson, Shakespeare and Bronte to name a few. He’d grown up with the works of these great literary giants and wanted to experience so many more. But his mum grew sickly and it was hard for her to read to him anymore when she was so easily winded and through the coughing fits that often wracked her body. To make her feel better, he was always making her little books and told stories to pass the time for her when she didn’t have the energy to read to him anymore. He continued his love for prose all throughout his life.

His travels with Dru across the globe had provided plenty of ideas. Armed with much needed inspiration he created first one, then an entire series of supernatural thrillers that had taken the world by storm. Dubbed the ‘Mythos’ series, each book featured a monster of the week that was based on the folklore of some country he and Dru had visited. He’d never planned to be successful knowing full well becoming a famous author was slim to none, but the courage and perserverence brought on by himself and Dru’s love and confidence in him compelled him to put himself out there. For her.

Nine years of blissful companionship had come and gone. The near decade had aged the two dark lovers, tempering them with each and every day to the rapidly changing world around them. She never ceased to amaze him. Not once during their time together did she bore him. She was always changing, always teaching him something new. She had taught him everything that he ever lacked, including the devious ways of her pleasures. She introduced him to the elaborate world of bondage and domination. Helped him to discover kinks of his own and trained him to be both her master and slave. A sadist and masochist, depending on what his princess wanted at the time.

It was during this developmental time that they returned to London for a bit and he was introduced to Liam and Darla. They were friends of hers through some of the art programs on campus and members of the BDSM community. Darla had been Dru’s roommate up until he had expressed interest in wanting to move in with her. Liam, a massive Irish bloke, was Darla’s boyfriend. The four of them spent a lot of time together after that. They went to clubs, galleries, more than a handful of shows and whatever other activities that struck their fancy. As the most financially stable, he often treated the ‘gang’ to whatever they wished.

He developed a tentative relationship with Liam. Never really knowing what to expect around the bloke but engaged anyways because sometimes he just fancied being around another man for once. He was a solemn brooding type of guy with an interest in gothic novels over which they bonded and who had absolutely no problem identifying with his inner sadist. Spike managed to learn a thing or two from him, particularly about how to make his lady writhe and squeal with delight in ways he hadn’t been able to manage before. For the most part however, he kept his distance from the man as something never felt quite around him.

It was during this same year of new friends that he decided to make another huge change. He asked for Drusilla’s hand in marriage. Once, he would have been nervous to move forward with something monumental but after everything she’d taught him, everything she’d helped him to become he knew he wanted to keep changing with her for the rest of his life if she’d have him. He had no fear.

She’d accepted and they immediately set to planning the grand wedding he knew that his princess wanted. He felt like he owed the massive success of his books in part to her. For without her he never would have travelled and would not have been inspired to write them. So, he gave her everything. The best food, flowers and venue that money could buy. The dress she chose was nearly a quarter of the entire wedding budget, but he wanted everything to be perfect for her.

As the months dwindled down to their expected day, a winter wedding set in December, he began to notice that she seemed a fair bit different compared to her usual self. Under normal circumstances they were glued at the hip. Almost inseparable. He needed the love of his life at his side and felt utterly lost and incomplete when she was not there with him. As he traveled the world doing book signings and other events related to his series she would always travel with him. He’d book only the finest of hotels so she could enjoy the best five-star amenities that the life of luxury had to offer her. He bought her presents on the daily; delicate pastries and rich desserts, lovely dresses and pretty jewels, gold and silver and diamonds and precious gems. He wanted her to have whatever her beautiful black heart desired.

It seemed though that which she desired most was not something he could provide her, given it was another man. Her removal from his everyday life was slow at first. She would still come with him on all of his trips but started to spend considerably less time out and about with him and more time tucked away in their hotel room. She spoke to him less and less and the endearing pet names she’d given for him; her darkling prince or darling boy almost ceased to exist.

Then she started not traveling with him as much, claiming that she wasn’t fit to travel, a sickness was befalling her, or she needed to work on her art and traveling wouldn’t be conducive to her artistic vision.

The time away from her hurt him. Save for his mother, he was alone for most of his life and although he adapted to the solitude, he preferred to be in the company of another. But he couldn’t find it in him to be selfish and gave her the space that she needed because that was what she wanted, and he’d promised to give her everything she wanted. He was a man of his word after all.

It was when she stopped coming with him at all that made him start to think things. Something dug its way into his brain, some evil thought that whispered nasty little things. It told him that Drusilla was no longer his and to pay closer attention to what she was doing.

It had been weeks at this point that she had taken him into her bed. In the near decade of their time together there was scarce a night where they didn’t fuck or play or whatever else happened behind closed doors. The lack of physical intimacy for such a long period of time made him paranoid. Insecurities that he’d never had before were rearing their ugly heads, wriggling through his brain. He ignored them though, as he didn’t want to betray the trust of his lover. If he ever saw the signs, which, now that he looked back were very bloody obvious, he turned a blind eye.

And then came that fateful day, not that it was that long ago. The darkest day of his entire life. As cliché as it sounded, he remembered it like it was yesterday.

_“Dru?”_

_He hung up his leather duster as he entered their flat in London. He’d arrived home a day early from his latest trip, a book signing in New York City. He’d taken an early flight home to avoid staying another night alone in his hotel room. Over the past couple weeks, he had barely seen his bride to be and was bloody well sure to develop carpal tunnel if he was left alone with only his left hand for any longer._

_“Poodle?” He called out to the silent halls._

_Out of all the rooms he figured she’d be in, he figured to be in her studio. It was where she spent the majority of her time after all. But as he climbed the stairs, he felt that feeling in his gut, that voice in his head that told him to go to their bedroom instead. A chill ran down his spine as he found himself in front of their closed door. When had they ever closed the door?_

_He knew. He knew even before he leaned in and pressed his ear to the great door to hear for himself the sound of flesh smacking together, or the crack of the whip, or the combined sounds of a man’s pleasure the high-pitched squealing that only his girl made._

_No._

_Not his girl._

_He placed an open palm to the door, steadying himself as the other clutched at the broken heart beating just beneath his breast. It was tearing apart. He could feel hot tendrils wrapping around it, bruising and squeezing. Muscle was being battered and burnt, rent and ripped. He had never felt agony akin to this._

_Nearly a decade of invaluable time and pleasant memories…and now they were all gone. She was gone._

_Despite his better judgement, he needed to see it. His brain, the bleeding thing, which kept protesting that after ten years his princess would never do such a thing to him, never hurt him like this needed proof. It needed to be shown the visual image of her betrayal, as if that would somehow make it all better._

_It made it worse. God it made it so much bloody worse._

_One glance was more than enough. Through the haze of black fuzz around his vision, his brain took in the sensory images presented to it. Sights, smells, sounds…. even the taste of the bloody room. He only needed to see the tosser that had stolen his love away from. What bastard could give her more that which he could not, could cause her to retreat into his arms. He was not at all prepared for the answer. The overly broad, tanned muscled back was enough. Liam. It was like he was watching the scene in front of him through the eyes of someone else, because he couldn’t feel his body. All that time spent with him and Darla, the friendship that had formed. All lies. His head swarmed and he was conscious enough to close the door and stumble down the hall before falling to the floor and retching all over the carpet. Nothing but bile came up and it kept coming and coming._

_Out. He had to get out. He had to get away from this. From them. Knew in the back of his mind he would have to deal with the later, but for now he was heading straight for the pub, possibly the hospital._

So here he was now months later, kicking it back in style. First class seats to Rio de Janero itself where he was going to spend his honeymoon, sans honey, for the next two weeks. He’d already found the two seats reserved for him and Dru, though now it just held his abundance of extra carry on and the most unflattering picture of her that he could find. Not that there were anyways, she looked beautiful in every shot she was in.

“Bugger off” He growled dismissively when some nosy sod came too close and gave him funny looks about the picture taped up to the empty seat, to which they quickly scurried away back to their own seat.

He normally wasn’t an aggressive person, especially towards the general population. He actually considered himself to be quite polite despite his inherently punk style. A bit of ole Willy was still buried there it seemed. He was normally very happy to stop what he was doing and sign a book or indulge in a fan photo op. In most cases his fans were a gift. They were kind and supported him, their love and praise helping to cope with the hole in his heart.

Right now, he felt he had every right to be the bitter man whose fiancé had cheated on him a few months before their wedding and he damn well wasn’t going to stop now. God knows how long she’d been going at it with that wanker before he’d found out. It was a week before he was sober enough to stumble back into their flat and another week after that to stumble back in sober and without the company of her new lover.

_Can’t be alone with your thought’s stupid git. Know what happens if you go down that road don’t you?_

The past couple months were had been some of the darkest of his life. Waking up still drunk from the previous night, sometimes in strange places.

So, he brought out his laptop and set himself up to work on his newest novel. If anything good had come from the all-consuming miasma that was Drusilla and what she’d done to him it was the heaps of dark inspiration that were perfect for him to develop a new plot line in his series.

They were announcing something now over the speakers. The last of the passengers were boarding the plane and he was delighted to find out there was only a handful of other people up here with him. Which meant there could be more attention devoted to him when the time came for beverages. He thoroughly intended to take advantage of that. He doubted that the plane had enough whiskey for him, never mind the rest of the passengers, and he was looking to get very thoroughly pissed.

_Should take a crack at getting something done now mate. You know once service starts you’re getting fuck all done. Flights over sixteen hours long and you’re gonna be asleep or heavily intoxicated for most of it if everything goes well._

God he hated how right the voice was. He put in his earbuds and cranked up the volume to welcome quite possibly one of the greatest albums every produce _The Day the Country Died_ and listened to Dick Lucas scream about how bloody Mickey Mouse had gotten shot in the head.

It wasn’t until a blonde woman, a flurry in motion, tapped him on the shoulder and motioned to his ears that he realized that the final announcements were starting, asking passengers to please fasten their seatbelts, prepare for ascent and to pay attention to the flight attendants who would be giving out instructions.

He’d already heard the damned things a million times, not that he didn’t respect the ladies and gents for their service, but for the most part he just tuned them out at this point.

He settled his things away, keeping himself busy as they began their rundown of oxygen masks, emergency exits and all the other safety codswallop. When he looked up to catch the ending bits of the show he took notice of quite possibly the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen. Smaller in stature but short of nothing else, she was a beautiful blonde package. Curvy in all the right places with perfect bouncy shampoo hair and sweet smile framed by full soft looking lips. She had the nicely toned arms and legs of a girl who regularly worked out but with plenty of soft feminine curves that any man would be happy to wrap himself around. And although he no doubt that she had a pretty little set of tits, it was her eyes that drew him in. Bright and warm as they met the gazes of other passengers. They were a deep shade of green, like precious jade.

And yet….and yet they seemed clouded with a hidden sadness. She could have fooled anyone with that faux chipper voice and bubbly personality, but it was like his heart seemed to recognize that she too had gone through something life changing. She had no outward tells of whatever sadness she was masking, but it was as though her heart was putting out some kind of hidden frequency. Coded and transcribed into some mysterious decibel that only he seemed to hear. A heart kindred to his own.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Despite the fact that only moments before he was full on internally whinging over the loss of the love of his life and that he’d never find love like that again, this woman before him had him entranced. She almost got him to think that things could change. That there was hope for him to find that again. Almost.

_You sad sorry git. Did you think that the first women you laid eyes on that made your seemingly undead heart flutter and you cock stir was going to be the one? No mate. She’s not true love. She’s not kindred. She’s just a pretty little stewardess that after today you’ll never see again. Leave off it mate_

He was right of course, his ‘inner demon’ as he liked to call it. The one that was always there and spoke the truth.

The girl was beautiful but in sixteen hours the plane would land in Brazil and she’d be flying off to Seoul or Cape Town or wherever else this bloody flying death trap went. There was no connection here. Just a lonely excuse for a man attracted to a bombshell of a woman.

Course that didn’t mean he couldn’t play pretend for a while. He was utterly shocked that after a going months without a single stiffy that the damned thing still even worked.

He watched her carefully as she performed the motions, going along with the verbal safety instructions, as though he hadn’t already seen them a couple hundred times before already. Every movement was meticulous and precise with a flowing grace that all but shouted that she’d done this a number of times before. She looked to be no more than 25…no wait…more like 22. It was all the weariness and stress lines that made her appear to be older. Poor thing. Despite those seemingly unattractive signs of a stressful life, she was nothing short of beautiful. He bet that she was the type to deny any praise that was sent her way or batted sweet nothings whispered in her direction and wondered if it was her da or some piece of shite boyfriend of hers that was to blame.

All too soon, the show seemed to be over and they started taxiing out onto the runway. While they were taking off and amidst the ever-burgeoning question of ‘Is it time to get royally pissed yet? He studied her some more. Watched her flit about the cabin in those last few moments before takeoff, a brief conversation with a black-haired beauty with strikingly fierce eyes and a tribal arm tattoo. Was it a requirement that the women on this plane to be stunningly gorgeous? Or did he had the pleasure of just being on the right plane at the right time?

Despite the allure of the other woman, he could see a mile away what she was like. Powerful in both her life and in the bedroom, but unlikely to be ‘held down’ by the shackles of traditional courting and marriage. No. This woman would always be a free bird, going wherever she wanted without comforting to the typical roles of society. While he respected that, it was not who or what he was interested in. The other woman, the blonde, was who had his undivided attention. A power in her eyes as well but different from her coworker. A personal strength that came from overcoming a tumultuous life, one that threw one too many punches her way, but she fought them back tooth and nail, all hellcat and wild. Her strength called to something in him and he couldn’t stop trying to meet her gaze.

Their eyes met more than a couple of times. At first, he chalked it up to her being dutiful and checking up on the passengers in her care. But that was the first couple of times. Then when they kept meeting, even if only for a hummingbirds breath, he convinced himself it was because she knew who he was, and she was starting to go star mad like half the birds (and gents if he was being honest) that seemed to get when they were around him.

It was only after she had taken her seat for their ascent and he’d caught her turning around to sneak quick glances at him when she thought he wasn’t looking, cheeks thoroughly flushed pink when she realized she’d been caugh that he thought it was maybe something more. It also didn’t escape his insightful eyes that that she nervously turned to engage her coworker in a ‘conversation’ after being caught. This led to the two of them swiveling their heads to get an eyeful of him before going back to talking.

Christ it had been ages since he felt this way. There was a lightness in his chest that had been gone for so long. Even if it was only a spot of playful flirting, he could feel some of that old Spike mojo come back to him. That gritty desire and blatant horniness that had dwindled and wilted away over the past year or so since the last time he’d had any sort of physical intimacy, let alone sex. But this girl, well, she was something bloody special if his useless prick was all by trying to burst its way through his jeans. There was no way he wasn’t going to make a show of it. Once, when she was sneaking another glance back at him, he’d caught her gaze as he blatantly adjusted himself and tried to relieve the growing pressure. He watched her eyes follow his movements and nearly jumped out of his seat, rules be damned, when he saw the blatant hunger in those jade eyes.

Seemed he hadn’t lost his touch, because when he rolled his tongue behind his teeth, something that had made Dru go wild, she flushed another pretty shade of pink. She didn’t turn around after that. She didn’t even so much as turn her head to speak with her mate until he heard the ‘ding’ of the no seatbelt sign and the resounding ‘you are now free to roam about the cabin’ announcement.

“About bloody time” He mumbled to himself, still not wanting to abandon the need to drink himself into oblivion.

Once the announcement was made the girls were up and moving. The dark-haired girl was pushing the cart and ringing people up while his vixen of a blonde was happily chatting with the other passengers, mixing up frilly drinks and pouring beers into pilsner glasses, all very professional like.

Even though there were only a few other passengers in first class, it felt like everything was moving at a snail’s pace. Stop. Talk. Pour. Swipe. Repeat. Patience was never his strong suit. He was practically vibrating in his seat in anticipation for the two lovely birds to make their way to him. He caught a snippet of the conversation in front of him, the blonde’s voice was soft and pleasant with just a hint of a west coast beachy kind of accent.

_American. California girl then innit? How lusciously wonderful. So vastly different from the dark hair, pale skin of Dru. Doesn’t strike me as a typical ‘beach blonde babe’ though_

While he was lost in his thoughts, they finally arrived

“Welcome to Azul Airlines. We’re so happy that you’ve chosen to fly with us today. As a member of first class your entitled to one free drink as well as complimentary champagne. After that, all drinks will be charged to you card. Can I get you something to drink?” She recited pleasantly, even throwing him a little smile though he could tell by her trembling breath and miniscule inarticulations that she was nervous.

That made two of him. Good thing he knew how to play it off.

“Evening ladies” He purred

The effect was instantaneous.

“Damn B. Your boy here is British and not the uber stuffy tweed wearing kind either”

_Your boy huh? What have you two little hens been clucking about then?_

“Talking about me then? Good things I hope?” He spoke conversationally but never taking his eyes off ‘B’ as she was going to be called until he got a real name from her.

“It was a debate” The brunette spoke up “See you got that whole Billy Idol looking going so we were trying to decide whenever you were gonna be a pain in the ass or not. Punk dude like you usually comes with a bad reputation”

“I will admit that I’ve got bit of a reputation” He smirked

_For being a kindhearted author with a thrilling mind and intense book series that is. And quite capable of being downright filthy in the right circumstances_

“Yeah? You a bad boy then? Or are you just overcompensating for something?” She teased

“The baddest baby” He murmured provocatively

The brunettes eyes seemed to widen at that, and he caught the lust filled look in her eyes.

“Damn B. I swear if you’re not gonna at least talk to Blondie here, I’m ready to get down with that” Her gaze raking over him, not looking the least bit shy that she was mentally undressing him as she did so.

“Faith” The blonde hissed, slapping at her coworkers tattooed arm.

“I’m so sorry about her. She can’t help herself. Really. It’s a problem”

He chuckled softly

“No worries pet. Rather enjoying the attention. Conversation’s not bad either”

“Well aren’t you just the smooth talker too. Bet you get all the ladies like that” Faith piped back up

_Yeah. Real smooth. That’s how you were able to keep Dru satisfied. Why every time there’s been a chance for a woman to warm my bed it ends up in embarrassment. No sweetheart seems Nancy boy William has become rather impotent as of late. About as smooth as sandpaper._

This conversation put him into a rather foul mood rather quickly

“I’ll take that drink now” He spoke dryly, finding himself unable to meet either of their eyes. “Whiskey. Neat. Might as well pour a few there luv. And I’ll take that champagne too”

The girls turned to each other and communicated sans words about their sudden mercurial passenger.

“O...of course. Jack Daniels okay?”

“Unless you’ve got a bottle of Glenfiddich or Lagavulin stashed away under there, Mr. Daniels will do just fine”

As soon as she passed him the first drink he brought it to his lips and threw it back. B gave him a wide-eyed look but didn’t stop from pouring him the next two drinks while the other girl got the champagne in its ice bucket all set up.

“So I gotta ask” Faith spoke up after a couple moments of silence, setting the ice bucket down. “What’s with the picture taped up to your other seat? That your girl?”

He glanced over to said picture and frowned.

“That” He drawled “Is Drusilla. She was the love of my life. Supposed to get married a few months ago we were. This here is the beginning of our honeymoon trip. Two weeks all-inclusive in Rio. Girl wanted to get away from the cold and rain of London. Go somewhere warm”

A frown tugged at B’s lips and he noted how wrong the expression looked on her face. How it made her seem…older, more tired. He realized he never wanted to see a frown on her pretty face again.

“Oh…did she die? Is this a way to take her with you? To remember her? I did that once, it really helped me get over the loss” She confessed

_A death then. Is that what’s weighing you down precious? Pretty young little thing like you shouldn’t have to know suffering yet_

“Alive as she’ll ever be. Stupid cow. No luv. Everything went tits up when I found the bitch in bed with another bloke. And although ‘friend’ isn’t exactly the word I’d associate with the giant forehead himself, I spent a lot of my time with that tosser. Taught him things. Learned from him” he trailed off, fingering his glass thoughtfully.

 _Damn it Dru. Why’d you do it baby? We were so good together_ He thought ruefully. The betrayal coming back to him full force and he took his second shot of whiskey.

“Found them a couple months before our wedding”

“Of you poor thing” She spoke while pouring another glass of whiskey. “Here. This one’s on the house”

“B” The other woman hissed

“Oh hush. Like you don’t giver drinks out to the hotties you lay eyes on” She said pushing the drink at him. “I’ve watched you do it”

Spike accepted the drink with a grin, flashing teeth that had the girl drop her gaze to the floor.

“I’m sorry to hear what happened to you. Faith will get you all settled. Unless you want to start a tab”

“Tab is good” He spoke curtly, knowing full well those few drinks weren’t going to be his last.

“Course it is. What’s the name Blondie? Can’t stay a mystery any longer”

“Name on my card is William Pratt” He spoke evenly half expecting the admission to immediately send the girls into a star-studded frenzy. But after a moment of blessed silence from both of them he realized he was safe.

“Guessin that aint the name you go by though. Sorry, but William sounds a bit….wrong for that look”

_Clever girl_

“Two for two you are. Go by Spike”

The gazes of both girls immediately dropped to his groin. Faith gave a salacious look, licking her lips while the pretty blonde again flushed pink. He rather liked the way he was so easily able to make her turn that color.

“Now now ladies. Eyes up here” He purred

Faith met his eyes dead on with the wild flame of lustful intent lighting up those dark doe eyes.

B met them timidly, half looking at the tray below her and peeking up at him through thick lashes. He found the latter to be more alluring. Where the other chit was forward, ordinarily an immediate attraction as he preferred the brazenness of a woman, the flame in the tenuous green eyes of the near silent blonde was low and kindling. A delicious slow burn that had him nearly quivering in his seat.

_Worth the wait mate. Buildup may be killer, but the result will be oh so much sweeter. Cor she’s such a pretty little thing_

Faith bumped her with the cart which snapped the girl out her daze and cast her a knowing smile.

“If you need anything else….p..please don’t hesitate to hit the assist button above you”

He didn’t miss the way her voice stuttered as she spoke or how she stressed the please in that sentence. He watched her go, and whether intentionally or not, the way she swung her hips as she walked.

As she moved forward Faith leaned in close enough he could smell the cherry Chapstick on the girl’s lips and the musky smell of her perfume. He thought she was moving in for a kiss and as lovely as the girl was for his ego, it was the other that his prick pressed tight against his zipper. She stopped at ear level with a smirk on her face.

“Her name is Buffy” She whispered “And she’s totally into you bad boy”

“Thanks for the info luv. Prefer to not call a lady B. Sounds so impersonal or the nickname of a common whore or summat, neither of which I’m very chuffed with”

She laughed

“You’re a strange guy. Like I can’t figure you out” She frowned

“Part of the mystery pet. Best keep it that way”

She flashed a dangerous smile that let him know just what she was thinking.

“And if she doesn’t hit that. You come find me” Her voice low and sultry

He watched her walk away, sipping at his whiskey. What he had consumed so far was already starting a nice mellow buzz, but it was nowhere near where he wanted to be. Course the plan of getting completely black out drunk may be up for revision if say a certain little blonde named Buffy was part of the picture.

_What the bleeding hell kind of a name is Buffy anyways?_

He glanced over past the seat meant for Dru and out the window every once in a while, taking deep draughts of his courtesy bottle of champagne. The sweet bubbly wine a sharp contrast from the smooth oaky taste of the Jack D. He’d gotten his laptop back out to try and make some progression on his new novel, finding little bursts of inspiration now and then. Once, while he was concentrating particularly hard, having gotten into a sort of rhythm, he was completely oblivious to the presence beside him. Therefore he was a little startled when he saw the movement of a hand out of the corner of his eye. But said hand gently set down another glass of whiskey on his tray and was followed by the sound of a sweet voice.

“You were empty. Figured it wouldn’t be so bad if I were to bring you another. I didn’t mean to startle you” She explained, an edge of panic in her voice.

He tilted his head to regard her.

“If I didn’t know any better. I’d say you were trying to get me drunk”

She had a soft little smile on her face, and he noticed the second drink waiting for him.

“I just know what you’re going through. And if it was me, I know I’d want to be drunk as soon as possible” She offered solemnly

He inspected her left hand, at the slender pretty manicured fingers wrapping tightly around the second glass.

“Tell me about him” He spoke softly

Her eyebrows drew together quickly, and she gave him a puzzled look, clearly taken aback as though she didn’t understand how he’d come to the conclusion he had.

“Your ring finger. You have a tan line from where a ring used to be, however you’re not wearing it now. So either you take your jewelry off when you’re working, or it hasn’t been on for a while now. You also just mentioned you know how I felt, leading me to believe you’ve also been in a situation where you’ve had a lover be unfaithful to you. Likely he was your fiancé. Or he could be a she. I do admit I assumed that it was a male partner which I realize was insensitive of me. It just seemed statistically more likely”

She stared at him for a good long moment, eyes searching his, for what he wasn’t sure, but he could practically hear the cogs turning over in that pretty head of hers.

_Doesn’t know whether I’m trustworthy or not. Smart. No one should be that naïve to believe everyone is worth placing their trust in. Girl like this has obviously had her heart broken and trust issues._

After several silent moments she glanced around, most likely looking to see if any of her other passengers required her assistance before setting down his new glass of whiskey and sat on the edge of a small bench like seat his semiprivate first class ‘room’ had to offer.

“His name was Riley” She spoke quietly, absentmindedly rubbing her left ring finger. “We were together for a few years, since my freshman year in college, but got engaged almost a year ago. Same boring story. New naive college girl falls in love with her TA, thought he was the one. We had awkward conversations and sweet dates and eventually he proposed. I said yes of course. How smart of me right?” She growled sardonically.

She sighed and then continued “He was a military guy. Joined as soon as they’d let him, and he got accepted into some secret sector doing covert ops who knows where. A few months ago, he gave me an ultimatum. His squad was leaving for some mission in Venezuela or something and he needed to know that night if I was going with him. He wanted me to leave everything behind” She trailed off

“You didn’t go”

She nodded sadly, clasping and unclasping her fingers in a nervous gesture.

_She obviously doesn’t like to talk about this. So why is she? Because we’ve got similar stories? Does it comfort her or make things worse?_

“I had something else I was dealing with at the time. Something I couldn’t just leave behind to go gallivanting off in a foreign country” She sighed “Maybe if the situation was different or the timing had been better I would have gone with him”

“Take it he wasn’t fond of your answer then”

She looked at him with hauntingly painful eyes. They shone with unshed wetness and the color reminded him of the pale blue green of the open ocean, murky and salty.

“No” She said finally “No we fought of course. He didn’t understand that I couldn’t leave h..” She stopped abruptly. “That I couldn’t leave. So he left. Some…big mysterious helicopter just took him away. I haven’t seen or heard from him since”

He grabbed ahold of the other shot of whiskey and knocked it back.

“More to that story though innit? Something more there. Forcing you to make a choice like that is bollocks of course but there’s something beyond that. Otherwise you wouldn’t have said you understood my situation. There was another yeah?” He coaxed

“Your oddly perceptive” And somehow that got him a smile

_Cor she has a beautiful smile. How could someone be so cruel as to hurt this girl? I’d spent every day trying to keep that smile on her face_

“Good at reading people” He answered instead “Understanding them. Been doing it a very long time” He paused “You see Drusilla” He said gesturing towards the empty seat “As beautiful and unique and creative as she was, was a bit mad. Not all there as some would say. Bug shaggin crazy. It didn’t make me love her any less, probably the opposite if I’m bein honest. But I had to learn to read her, to understand her so that I could keep her happy” He scoffed and sulked in his seat. “Lotta good it did me”

Another silence stretched between them before Buffy spoke again.

“I’m pretty sure…that he was cheating on me” She said finally “I never actually got any proof or walked in on them”

He flinched instinctively, the imagery flashing in his skull

“But he was really distant towards me at the end. He was gone more often and when he _was_ with me…it’s almost like he wasn’t. My friend Willow said she thought she saw him hanging around with another girl from class too. And…I had this voice….inside my head that kept telling me that something was wrong. It kept clawing its way to the surface any chance it could get. Kept telling me that I wasn’t his”

_Not hers_

The voice hissed in his mind. Everything came back painfully. A flood of memories that he’d thought he had under tight lock and chain. Bitter and cruel they sought to knock him down. Yet the only thing he could focus on was the similar pain of the woman before him, currently bearing her heart and soul to him. Him, a complete stranger.

“You were too good for him luv. Tosser like that didn’t deserve you” He murmured sincerely

“You don’t even know me” She said suddenly defensive “How do you know what I’m like? For all you know, I could be a bitch and a slut and it all could have been all my fault. I could just me looking for sympathy!”

“But you not” He cut her off.

She met his gaze and made a sound like she was trying to choke back a sob.

“Then why?” She whispered sadly

He glanced away, looking out the window

“The two of them…they’re weak is all” He turned to meet her gaze, pausing before speaking again. “Tell you what though. They’ll miss the water now that the well’s gone dry”

She gave a half-hearted little smile and ducked her head and several minutes passed again before she spoke up.

“What’s a tosser anyways” She asked, any traces of sadness gone from her face, her nose scrunched up. It definitely sounded off coming out of the mouth of an American.

“You know…like…tossin off?” He emphasized with a crude gesturing, imitating the action of beating off.

“Eww” She cringed “Why not just call him a dickhead like everyone else?

“Dick…head? Bloody hell you Yanks make everything so ineloquent” He barked with a laughter he hadn’t felt in a while. “Rather unimaginative innit?”

“Its gross either way” She shrugged

The sound of a call button chimed overhead, and she frowned at him.

“Duty calls” She mumbled sadly. “With any luck, I’ll be back okay?”

“Don’t have to keep me company pet. Can handle myself”

“I’ll bet you can” She whispered softly, her tone taking on a coy tone and when she dared to meet his eyes he saw that the kindling flame lighting up her jade eyes made them shine like previous gems. A surge of lust and want rose up within him, crashing over him like a tide. “But I’d like to come back and talk to you. If that’s alright”

“Bloody right it is” He answered, his mouth dry.

She grinned and flounced away, giving him another perfect view of her pert little bottom

He poured the last of his champagne and downed it in one long swallow. It was of course going to take at least another half dozen shots at of whiskey before he would be considered drunk, but he was currently in that sweet spot between mellow and pissed that had him feel like he was floating. And pretty little Buffy had seen to putting him into a good mood for once. He eagerly awaited her return, giddy in his seat for both her companionship and that slow burning need she was stirring up in him. He felt himself once again growing hard at the thought of her. About how those plush pink lips and how lovely they would look wrapped around his prick. About the luscious curves of her waist and hips and the swell of her sweet little tits that strained against her tight uniform. He pondered the color of her nipples, the shade of her labia and whether or not she was a natural blonde. Christ he was going to hell thinking about the girl like this, but she was so incredibly beautiful.

She didn’t come back for a while. Once, while she was running back and forth she dropped off two more shots of whiskey, favoring him with a smile before zooming off again.

It could have been on account of his mood, or another short time after that when she came around with another pair of drinks she also leaned into him, fingers curling around his biceps and her little breasts nearly pressed into the side of his face, her sweet breath tickling at his ear.

The next time that she managed to come around after that he stopped her, grabbing lighting at her around her arm.

“Nother round please pet….wait…bloody hell. Go ahead and buy a round of drinks on me for the entire plane”

Her eyes widened

“Oh Spike. You don’t need to do that. There are at least 100 passengers on this plane! It’s a nice gesture and all but it might just be the whiskey talking”

“Can hold my liquor. May be passed tipsy luv but I’m sober enough to know what I’m doing. Whassa matter, don’t think I’m good for it?” He growled

Her eyes instantly softened

“Course I do” She sighed and took a seat again. “Look…I..I haven’t exactly been completely honest with you. I know exactly who you are. I’ve read all of your books. At least twice” She confessed “I didn’t want you to think that I was being nice to you or giving you those free drinks just because of that though” She explained “I didn’t want you to think I was just some…star obsessed girl with a crush or something”

She flushed

“Well…there may still be a crush involved here, but it’s certainly not because of what you are. It’s more of who you are. The man behind the name and all”

He’d been dealing with women throwing themselves at him for years now. There had been no shortage of fan mail since the beginning, often receiving kilos of it in a matter of days. It wasn’t a joke when he told people that he often opened letters from his female (and some male) fans that described in explicit detail the ways in which they wanted to shag him or have him shag them. The amount of knickers he received through the post was astronomical, some of which were very obviously soiled with the dried stains of their arousal for him. Their minds were almost as filthy as his own. He had honestly prepared for at least once during this flight that someone would throw themselves at him, or at least ask for a book or photo signing.

And here was a girl whom owed him no allegiance, was obviously a big fan of his work and yet felt guilty that **_she_** was keeping the secret that she knew who he was. He was flattered by her praise, enraptured by her flirting and his heart swelled a bit at her obvious kindness. She made him want to right bleedin poetry again, something he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do in ages.

“A crush is it?” He leered, tongue curling behind his teeth.

“Well….yeah” She mumbled embarrassed “I thought it was pretty obvious…unless…oh god. I’m just embarrassing myself aren’t I? You just got out of this whole big thing. This life changing relationship and your probably just trying to drink and get away from everything and here I am trying to be a big ho and flirt with you….oh god I’m an awful person” She plopped down in front of him like she had already done so many times before with her head between her knees and mumbling incoherently through her hands.

It was true. He had come here just to get wasted and to get away from everything. To get away from his life for just a little while and away from Dru and his thoughts in general. He was hoping that for the next two weeks the only times he would be sober were the hours of the night he was sleeping, if he even managed to sleep. But now he saw that plan changing…well changing only a little mind you. After this flight he still planned to get to Rio and go about his merry way, drinking and enjoying everything the hotel had to offer and she would go on her separate way as well. The bit that did change was that for the rest of this flight he wanted to be able to coherently talk to this girl before he never saw her again. He desperately wanted to be able to shag her, or at least bring her off.

He placed a hand on the top of her thigh, far enough away from her knee that it read as something more than a comforting touch and close enough to the apex of her thigh that he heard her sudden intake of breath. When she tensed, he felt the muscle tighten under his fingers and he got flashes of strong thighs locked around his neck and the hot slickness of her quim against his mouth. He had to stop himself from moaning.

“Feeling is more than mutual pet” He rumbled and didn’t fail to notice the way she licked her lips and shivered in response . She lifted her head to meet his gaze. Her cheeks were once again flushed, breaths coming in short pants, pupils dilated so much that her eyes took on an inky blackness making those irises look the color of the trees on a cool fall night.

“You are remarkably beautiful Buffy. Your solider boy was daft to have let you go”

She answered with a contented sigh and mirrored his hands placement on his own thigh. His eyes drifted shut, enjoying the feeling of her fingers pressing into him, massaging gently and drawing little patterns. Of the warmth of a woman’s flesh against his after so long without it. She made little attempt at being coy now, circling closer and closer to the inside of his thigh where the evidence of his interest in her lay heavy, trapped by the confines of his too tight jeans. She brushed him lightly. Fingertips wisping down the entire length of him with a tiny groan in the back of her throat. He just about lost it.

He either needed to have her now or have her stop before he got arrested for public indecency because he was sure ready to spread her across his lap or shag her into the damn floor of the aisle. He opened his eyes after a moment to try and control himself to stare dead ahead through the gaps of the seats to the smirking face of Faith.

He nudged the girl in front of him, expecting her to fully jump out of her ‘seat’ and run away but was even more turned on when she not only continued touching him but then rested her hand directly atop his stiffy. This time, he couldn’t help the moan that slipped from his throat of the involuntary twitch of his cock in reaction to her touch.

“Friend is watching” He rasped

But to her delightful surprise, she squeezed him harder. He felt his eyes nearly cross

“Christ” He whispered. This get you hot sweetheart? Knowin anyone can see?”

“I…I guess it kinda does”

“Oh I see” He chuckled darkly “White bread didn’t let you explore did he? You’ve no idea what kinds of things may turn you on do you? What your capable of?”

Her gaze was molten as she looked up from her hand wrapped tightly around him to look him in the eye

“Show me” She whispered huskily

_Fuck what a woman_

It would hurt something awful to have this girl once and then let her go. Not when there was a possibility that he could get to play the teacher and expose her to a whole new world of pleasures. The decision to have her now would probably come back and plague his already nightmare ridden dreams and make his nights seem even lonelier than before. But damn it he wasn’t going to give up this once chance to show her something about herself and it had been too long since he’d taken something for himself.

“Course luv. Here to serve” He purred “Where?”

The…the staff restroom…near the cockpit. Faith will turn a blind eye”

“I’ll be waiting. Do be a dear and get those drinks for the other passengers. One for everyone on board, cept the pilot of course”

“What do you want me to tell them?” She questioned and unfortunately removing her hand from his painfully swollen cock. Bleeding hell that wouldn’t do. He had to have her little hands back on him as soon as possible.

“Don’t use my name. Don’t rightly care about the rest of the minor details” He ground out, adjusting himself and willing the damned thing to go down, failing miserably

“This is very sweet of you. Buying all these people drinks when you don’t need to”

He shrugged

“What can I say luv? I’m a very generous man” He purred, locking eyes with her, dark stormy blue meeting those irradiant pools of liquid emerald. And he got the reaction he was hoping for. That small little gasp.

_Poor girl has never been seen to properly. What git wouldn’t want to take the time to pleasure this beauty? To spent hours nestled between her thighs?_

“Now toddle on off pet. Get your mate to help you out. I’ll be eagerly waiting”

He watched the visible tremble that went through her and the way she bit her lip as she turned away. He almost grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back down onto him, rules be damned.

Somehow he managed to control himself long enough to watch her walk away from him yet again, hips swaying as she made her way over to Faith. He watched a bit of the exchange, namely the surprised look the feisty one gave Buffy before she flashed her eyes and met his. Guess the secret was out then. But then they were off, quickly darting to their cart and using a walkie, which he supposed was to let the stewards of the other parts of the plane know what was going on.

Money didn’t mean much to him. The royalties from his series had seen that he could live comfortably for the rest of his life without the need to do anything else in terms of work. Hell, he was working on a contract now about making his first book into a full feature movie. But that was never what it was about for him. And it was true what they said, money couldn’t buy happiness. He’d seen the outcome with Drusilla though he promised himself he was never going to be the kind of man to spend money just to buy love. He had been so desperate for Dru to come back to him that he broke his own rule.

He knew his flaws. The borderline obsessive attachment and the clinical level of separation anxiety. More than anything, he hated to be alone. He enjoyed his solitary time like any other person, but not having someone in his life to share everything with made living his life meaningless. And sod it, for the first time in a while he was in a decent mood. Smoothed over by Mr. Daniels and practically thrumming with anticipation, lust and just the thought of pleasuring this beautiful girl had him swept up in a strange feeling of childish giddiness that he felt he needed to share with the rest of the plane.

He was ravenous for the girl. Aching. Barely able to sit and wait the few minutes he did manage before heading to their not so secret meeting point, let alone the time it would take for her to make the complete rounds of the plane. But the whole thing felt so right, and she’d been so pleased with him for his gesture. Offering a drink to everyone on board sounded like a bloody brilliant idea.

He waited until they were both mingling among the other passengers before getting up and heading to their rendezvous point.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been a member of the mile-high club. Rather if there was such a thing, he’d probably have platinum status by now. In the early years his dark princes had been insatiable and there was something about small spaces that his girl had been particularly fond of. It brought back memories, largely unwanted and mostly bitter now but some were pleasant enough.

He scanned the tiny room, his brain reminding him what was possible here (almost anything if he put his mind to it, he was quite flexible) and had to remind himself that Buffy would be the one running the show. Poor chit probably needed this much more than he did, and he’d do anything she asked of him. Love’s bitch and all.

He waited what seemed like forever, playing with his lighter and adjusting the way his shirt looked in the mirror probably a thousand times before he heard the light rapping on the door. Not even bothering to suss out whether it was even her or now, because he truly had no shame and completely unfazed if he was caught where he shouldn’t be, and unlocked the door to let her in.

“Sorry it took so long” She smiled apologetically “You would think that when someone offers you a free drink you’d just shut up and take it. But nope!” She exclaimed popping the p. “Everyone wants to know who it’s from and why you bought it for them and what’s you angle? Do you expect favors in return? If I don’t want a drink can I have something else? Was this a come on? God I hate people sometimes” She fumed.

He found that he could only stare at her with a soft grin, not at all angered by her ranting but rather entranced by her passion.

“What?” She questioned “Oh my god, I’m raving like a lunatic. You probably don’t want to hear all this”

“The contrary pet. I’m happy to just listen to you. Could just talk if you wanted”

Her finely groomed eyebrow nearly arched off her face

“You’re a terrible liar”

“Saw through that did you?”

“Not very hard” She said with a shrug

“Oh but it is” He purred “Couldn’t stop thinking about your lovely little hand on me while I was waiting all by myself in here. Got me near to burstin already sweetheart”

She stepped in closer to him, nearly flush against him, her soft looking lips only inches from her own as she tilted her head up to meet his gaze

“That gonna be a problem?” She asked huskily

“No” He growled and feeling her hot breath against his lips, he couldn’t wait any longer. His lips descended on her and he moaned into her at the feeling of those soft, plush lips that eagerly met his own. They met languidly, with a few heavy kisses that had him desperately trying to reign in control and not slam the girl against the door like a bloody sex starved animal. Slow, passionate meetings of hot and heavy breath and wet smacking. She was moaning against him, pressing herself against him tightly now and sliding her hands under his duster with one hand snaking its way under his shirt and around his waist while the other made its way up the middle of his back. She dragged her fingertips up the knobs of his spine, feather light touches against each one. He settled his hands on her hips, drawing her close and eliciting a gasp that he swallowed down.

She was the one to push past his lips first, hot and slick she tasted like strawberries and champagne.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against hers

“Drinking on the job luv?”

“You said everyone but the pilot. I’m included in everyone. So…thanks for the drink”

“All part of the plan. You taste bloody fantastic” Placing a peck against her lips.

“Hmm you too. Didn’t think I liked the taste of whiskey, but you make it good” She cooed

“Want another?”

“Yes please” She sighed “I think I might be addicted”

She met him again, standing on her tiptoes to meet his full length and throwing the arm wrapped around his waist around his neck instead. She was aggressive, this fiery little minx, taking complete control and god how he loved it.

He pushed past her lips, darting out to wrap his tongue around hers, melding the sweetness of fruit and wine with oaky whiskey and traces of the smoke he’d had hours ago before boarding. He cupped the back of her head. Her ponytail, while having its own set of advantages in certain situations, failed to let him run his fingers through her soft locks.

He consumed her again, licking at her tongue, the inside of her cheeks, the backs of her teeth, and she came at him just as viciously.

He pulled away again, needing to breath for she took all of his breath away.

“Let your hair down” He whispered raggedly

She gave him a smile and quickly did as he asked, blonde hair falling in waves around her shoulders and releasing a perfume of citrus and sweet vanilla.

“Better?” She asked coyly, reaching up to nip at his lower lip, tugging him down to her so that their swollen lips were only a breath away from each other.

“Hmm” He rumbled in response and then they were on each other again, this time his fingers running through her California sun bleached hair, fine and soft and silky. He wrapped fingers at the base of her neck, rubbing small circles and angling her up to him so he could explore her sweet mouth deeply. She groaned into him, little fingers digging tightly into the curls at the back of his neck, just this side of pain and pleasure, like she knew it was he needed.

When she bit his lip again he moaned into her and felt her smirk against him before she pulled away, taking a deep lungful of much needed oxygen.

“Bad boy aren’t you? You liked that?”

“You’ve no idea luv” He chuckled darkly

“I think I might be beginning to. The hair, the eyebrow piercing, the eyeliner. What else am I gonna find?” Her hand drifting down the front of his chest, his belly, over his belt (which coincidently was also covered in spikes) and settling overtop his prick.

“Unzip me luv and you’ll find out” Licking the shell of her ear and then nibbling at the fleshy spot behind it.

She whimpered and hastily grabbed at his belt, fumbling with it at first but quickly undoing it and then she was tugging at his jeans, pulling them down around his knees. His painfully trapped prick was finally released, and he breathed a ragged sigh of relief when the damned thing sprung up and curved over his clothed abs.

“Oh god” She moaned and for a moment she was still

“Hardly” Suddenly feeling self-conscious. He’d only ever been with Dru, who yes, had praised him for his cock. Used to whisper all sorts of encouraging and nasty things about his size, his shape, how wonderful and different he was. Hell, she was the one who convinced him to get both of his piercings. They’d hurt like a bitch at the time, but he soon learned why she had asked him of it.

He also knew that the woman currently eyeing him up had likely never come across an uncut man before and heard that many American woman may be weirded out or disgusted by it. But then her dainty fingertips were brushing against him, trailing down his underside and lingering on the silver barbell outlined underneath his foreskin just under the head.

“You are just full of surprises aren’t you” Her voice sounding somewhat mystified

“Good I hope” And she must have noticed the tremble and insecurity in his voice because her eyes softened just a bit and she grasped him under his head, flicking a finger against both the piercing under his head and the one through his slit.

“Very” She hummed sweetly

He didn’t try and stifle the grunt of pleasure pain that came with her pulling at the ring or the way her lips curled in a devious smile as she did it again.

“Feel good?” She asked softly moving away from the piercing and wrapping fingers tightly underneath his covered head.

“Yes” He hissed

Gods she was wonderful. He figured that since he was relatively inexperienced that her lack of confidence would show, but bloody hell it was the opposite. And she seemed to be reading his mind, handling him just right, gripping him firmly in long slow strokes while tracing thick veins and playing with both piercings.

He gripped the edge of the tiny sink and groaned when she dropped to her knees in front of him and looked up like she was starved

“Don’t have to do that. Wanted to make it about you” He ground out. Not that the sight of her before him like this was anything less than perfect.

“Oh but it still is. I want you and I want this very much” She ducked her head shyly, still pumping him slowly.

“I guess….I guess you could say I have some kind of a fetish for it” She said tripping over the word. “But Riley thought it was demeaning. He let me do it sometimes, but not nearly enough for me”

“Load of bollocks that is. Bloody hell, if anything its more empowering. Gives you all the power doesn’t it? Nothing hotter than a woman who has total control” And he certainly wasn’t going to deter her from giving him a blowie.

“That what you want Spike? Want me in control of you?”

“Gods yes” He groaned arching into her stilled palm.

She paused a moment, eyes raking over him before speaking again.

“Your very pretty” She whispered, her lips hovering over him. “I had to control myself after I felt you out there”

“Buffy” He whimpered, indefinitely turned on as she praised his cock

“So familiar” She murmured with a hard tug “And yet…so different” The top of her tongue flicking against the metal bead and playing with the extra skin surrounding him. She experimented with him for a moment, watching with a strange fascination as that extra bit of skin slid back and forth over the tip of him, revealing the fleshy pink head one second before it was covered again.

“Not bothered by it then?”

Her eyes met his in a fiery gaze and fuck, he was completely lost to this girl.

“It’s strange” She began “But definitely not bothered. Still very much want you” Her thumb swiping over him and playing with the folds of his foreskin.

“Is it sensitive?” A note of curiosity in her husky voice

“Very”

“Oh? Hmm….how do I play with you?”

“Christ kitten slip your little tongue underneath a little bit and slide it round” He groaned gripping himself tightly around his base.

She did so tentatively, flicking the tip of her tongue around the radius of that expandable flesh and up underneath. Soon he was panting as she explored him, dipping her tongue in between the tight space of his skin and cockhead and sucking the swollen glans fervently, her little tongue lapping at him and his piercings.

“Fuck” He hissed “That’s it. Just like that”

She seemed to take his praise in stride, going beyond his instructions and experimenting with her own techniques. The way she tenderly worked him, like she was making love to his cock with her perfect mouth and making little mewling noises in the back of her throat was driving him wild. He had been somewhat kidding when he told her he was close to bursting, but if the girl kept this up, he wouldn’t be kidding for long. She placed a kiss to the barely exposed tip swirling her tongue around before pulling pack all of his foreskin and exposing his glistening pink head, diving immediately for the underside and playing with his frenulum piercing.

“Bleedin hell you’re so hot” He groaned out, releasing himself from his own grip, watching himself bob at against her lips as she tried to recapture him. “So bloody hot. Feels so good sweetheart”

She grinned around him, taking him deeper and oh gods was she perfect. She released the hands she had from around his cock and settled one around the back of his thigh, kneading trembling muscle and soft skin while the other slipped between his legs and cupped his heavy sac.

“Buffy” He groaned hoarsely.

She laved the underside of him, licking and slurping along the entirely of his length in long torturous strokes. She couldn’t seem to get enough of his piercings, always playing with them. She teased and prodded, pulled at the metal with her teeth and when he hissed in pleasure she instinctively seemed to know to keep him on that thin line of pleasure pain.

“Can be rougher pet. Grip me harder, tug all you blood like. Leave marks”

“Mmm” She groaned around him, sending vibrations that resonated through his body.

She pulled away from him, licking at his scarlet head. It only made him harder knowing that not only was she doing this to please him, but that she was immensely turned on by it too. In the small space they occupied, the smell of her arousal perfumed the air and was making him dizzy with her scent.

“I love this” She whispered. Her chest heaving as she licked over the bars of silver. “I love playing with you” Emphasizing by tugging at his scrotum.

“I’m in love with your big cock”

He whimpered when she stroked his full length again. He hadn’t been this hard in so long, it was making him a bit lightheaded

“You’re a bloody marvel” He growled between clenched teeth

“So what makes you cum Big Bag? What can I do to make you scream?”

“No. Don’t want to cum yet”

She arced her brows, her lips set in a thin line and then removed her hand from behind his thigh and flicked the head of his cock. He sucked in a breath as the pain lanced through him, but it only made him swell more for her.

“Want you to” She urged “I neeeed you to. Want to see you all swollen up. I bet you cum hard don’t you?”

She was driving him barmy. Torn desperately between wanting to either bury his head between her lovely thighs or continue to restrain himself to prove himself a good boy for her. The need to please her was all consuming. She had a way about her that was this side of wicked and knew that under the right circumstances (currently restricted by their time and the space of the airport loo) that she would make for the perfect domina.

He knew this would haunt him, that he would be desperate for her after this. He would be addict without a fix and crave her until he went mad. But he couldn’t give this up, couldn’t give her up. And if he could help her learn more about herself in their short star-crossed meeting, well then he’d done some future bloke a bloody favor.

He covered her hand with his and squeezed, pumping himself steadily with her assistance. Her eyes were transfixed to his, a rumbling moan in the back of her throat and bloody hell the things she was doing to him.

“Grab my stones and don’t let go, and come up here and give us a kiss”

She obeyed, and both lovely hands worked him in synch, drawing that feeling he’d almost forgotten about from deep within him at a steady pace. Then her lips were back on his and he grabbed onto one curvy hip and just held on. How was it that a women he’d never met could work him this well? He felt as though she’d attuned to him immediately. Catching on quickly that he needed a bit of pain in his pleasure, that he enjoyed a slow building pace over a rush to finish. Just when he thought she couldn’t get any more perfect; the scent of her hair invaded his nose and she was suckling on the junction of his neck and shoulder.

“Oh Christ. Oh luv please. Christ Buffy. Do it again. Please” He whimpered, is voice hoarse and desperate but that only seemed to encourage her.

She sucked harder at that point, scraping teeth against her skin and for a moment all he heard was their combined desperate panting.

“You like being bitten don’t you?” She cooed “Course you do. Will it make you cum for me? Huh? Will you be a good boy and cum?”

She squeezed him hard, fingers curled tightly around his weeping head, fingernails digging into his pulsing flesh and around his sac. She constricted and kneaded them. It was as though she made her hand into a makeshift cock ring. His pleasure built and built but with the grip she had on him kept him from orgasming. He squirmed under her, gasping, growling through gritted teeth as she tortured him by keeping him right on that edge and he loved every second of it. Every time he got close she reigned it back and he was left gasping for breath. But it was only so long before she could continue to delay the inevitable and moments later his orgasm violently crashed over him, cum starting to splatter against her belly and his, his entire body swept up in the sensation.

He came with a howl, which she promptly swallowed down, covering her lips over his while she stroked him through the beginning of his orgasm. When the noise in his throat died down to a series of guttural moans she dropped to her knees and engulfed him, drinking him down in earnest.

“Christ you’re a little nymph” He praised “Gorgeous girl. Knew there was something special about you. You’re a bloody natural at this”

She released him, a blissed-out smile on her face that he’d never seen on a woman before and all from sucking him off.

“At blowjobs?” She questioned, her voice scratchy and damn it if that didn’t make him want more, to see her throat all filled up with him.

“At me luv” He panted “At working me. She visibly preened

“Knew just what to do to me. Didn’t you, little vixen?”

She raised herself from her knees and shrugged

“It just seemed right. I just kinda went with my gut after I got into it. You said it was okay to be kind of rough, so I went from there. Which is strange. I kinda pegged you to be the opposite when I first saw you”

“Surprised?” He asked hesitantly and her lips curled into a smile

“Pleasantly” She murmured affectionately, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him softly.

He melted into her into the kiss. Turned on by all that hidden power within her while still craving the soft and suppleness of the woman pressed tightly against him. She cooed sweetly when he slipped both hands under the firm cheeks of her behind, petting and kneading her above her skirt before picking her up and sitting her down at the edge of the sink.

“You’ve got me all out of sorts luv. Don’t usually like being taken care of first”

“W..why’s that?” Her voice catching as his fingers made their way slowly up her legs over her knees and settling dangerously close to the apex of her thighs.

“Makes me feel like every other bloke, just getting his girl off as a return favor” He grimaced “Don’t like that feeling at all. Want you to feel like I’m here, doing this because I **_need_** to be buried in your lovely quim as much as you needed to suck me off”

“You don’t need to convince me of anything. I can hear it in your voice”

“You’ve no bloody idea. Been thinkin’ about this since you started sending glances my way”

“What can I say” She shrugged “I have eyes. And you’re really hot”

“True. But not hotter than your luscious cunny” He drawled lavishly

He was getting addicted to how many times he could get her to flush like that.

“You and your strange British words”

“Part of the charm luv” He murmured in a low voice, grabbing the waistband of her uniform skirt and tugging it down slowly along the curve of her legs.

“You’ve got gorgeous legs Buffy. Work out much?”

She beamed

“Every day I can. This job is a lot of sitting, standing and moving and it just keeps everything working in synch. Helps me to keep my mind focused too”

He paused, his exploration of her halting briefly after he set her skirt aside. He could see it immediately, that glazed over look in those shimmering eyes

“Something weighing on you? Something more than just your ex? Know you said as much earlier. A death?”

“Yeah…but I really don’t want to talk about it right now. I just want to be here. With you. I want you to touch me please” Her eyes flashing with residual hurt but lit up with her lust.

“Can do that” He whispered huskily, his gaze fixing upon the noticeable wet spot in the front of her cotton panties that had been revealed with the removal of her skirt.

“This wet for me are you? Really do getting off on sucking cock”

She nodded, nibbling at her bottom lip and he was intoxicated by the little moan that followed after her slid his fingers down her clothed seam, seeking and instantly finding the hardpoint of her swollen clit

Circling her slowly with the just the pads of his index and middle finger he continued whispering against her, lips finding he sun kissed skin of her inner thigh, carefully listening to the changing in her breathing and the hitching of her breath. It didn’t take long, even with such lazy movement, for her to near her peak. Which really just made it more evident that her past lovers were incompetent gits when it came to pleasing the gorgeous creature before him.

She’d already done more than half the damn job herself just by sucking his cock. Well fuck them for not letting her explore what she wanted and letting her go down on them. For trying to restrain her innate sexual energy or praising her for the remarkable things she could do with her hands and mouth. The woman was a bloody wildcat and she’d been caged all this time like some poor show animal.

“Its been too long for you” He stated overtly “No one’s tended to you proper. That’s it innit? ‘S why your so close already”

Her attempts at stifling the little cries she made only served to fuel him. Part of him felt guilty for toying with her. Knew that with a few carefully placed flicks of his fingers he’d have her screaming. But he wanted to draw it out of her, make the first time she came for him, though certainly not the last, something that she would never forget. He wanted her to see stars. He knew he was selfish for wanting this to haunt her like it was going to him, but he did it anyways.

“So close” She echoed in a breathy whisper “Please”

“I know luv. I know” He soothed “No need to rush though right? Got the time now don’t we? Just let yourself feel it. Let yourself feel me”

He would be doing the same after all. He basked in the look on her face. Eyes fluttering, glancing between him and his fingers and the ceiling when it got to be too much for her. Her heard tilted back against the mirror, which Christ, he could see the possibilities of using it now and he wasn’t going to pass that up. Following the curve of her neck his gaze caught the shine of the small silver pendant there, a small locket that rested at the base of her throat. He had to wonder if he would find something there if he opened it, or if it was hollow. Would it give the answer to the mystery of the other reason for her sadness? His curiosity of human nature and this sudden attachment that he felt he already had with her despite only knowing her a few hours begged him to find out the answer. Something within him was drawn to her and found that there was a fierce instinct to protect and comfort.

He was broken from his empathetic thoughts by the increased intensity of her sounds of pleasure and he laid his head against her thigh, watching his fingers as he brought her closer and then her face as she fell apart. Her release was better than any music he’d ever heard. Better than the Pistols, The Ramones and The Clash all playing a single triple headliner show at the godamned CBGB. She wailed, trembling and chanting what might have been his name had it been the least bit coherent. Who knows how long the poor girl had gone without a decent orgasm. And this was just a warmup. Her comedown was almost as satisfying and he reveled in the way she held his stare, trying to control her twitching muscles and heavy breathing.

“That was…”She panted; eyes already glazed over in that delirious state of pleasure. He didn’t let her finish. Although the slow build up had been good, he needed more from her. Now that she was limber, pliant and no doubt soaked for him, he grabbed ahold of her knickers and pulled them down her legs roughly, stuffing them in his back pocket with the fluid motion of cheating poker player.

He was in awe of her. This beautiful creature who was letting herself go completely and giving over her pleasure to him.

“Bleedin hell Buffy. Gods you’ve a pretty cunt”

To his immense satisfaction she only seemed to respond more to this

“More” She whined

“Like that do you? Like me whispering nasty little things in your ear? Things I’m loving about you? About this?”

“Yes” Her voice a ragged sigh “Your accent is sexy, and your voice has got me all hot everywhere”

“So you want me to tell your gorgeous quim reminds me of a garden? Lovely and fragrant like peonies and peach blossoms”

“Definitely not what I’ve been told in the past” She laughed bitterly

“Stupid. Gits” He growled, emphasizing each word and lowering his head so he was eye level with her open flower.

“Spike” She mewled, reaching out for him, her slender fingers threading through his spiked hair, snagging through the gelled platinum locks and pulling at the roots. He leaned into her touch, loving the possessiveness of it.

“Rather fancy this” He whispered, stroking her hairless mount with soft fingertips, drawing tiny swirling patterns and gazing at her in wonderment. “Lets me see all of you. Perfect thing that you are”

He raked blunt fingernails around the curve of her bottom, up her flanks and around to the inside of her thighs, thin red lines appearing in their wake, Buffy gasping lightly.

“Lean back a bit pet” Softly instructing her “There we go. Goddess what a gorgeous girl you are, all sleek and toned. Love seeing a woman that takes care of herself. Where you from pet?”

She eyed him curiously, eyebrow raised as to say, ‘are we really talking about this right now?’

“California”

_Not bad mate got it in a one again. Scary how good I am sometimes_

“Suits you. Love the all over tan. Naughty thing are you? Spending your time outside and starkers”

“I suppose. I live in a pretty private area, so it isn’t that hard. And I take my pleasures where I can. You know the deal already”

“That all your formers were right poofters who didn’t want to let their girl explore the things that drive her wild. That couldn’t find the broad side of a barn in broad daylight let alone your sweet little clit. And were utterly emasculated knowing you were stronger than them”

“I…maybe came on a bit too strong sometimes”

“Bollocks” He sneered “A woman knows what she wants? That is something bloody irresistible. Don’t get me wrong, nothing wrong with vanilla luv, fine flavor that is. Little streak of something else in the mix, couple kinks? That makes it just fun” He leered, waggling eyebrows at her.

She made a whimpering noise in her throat and reached for him again.

“So stop teasing me and lick me up. I know that silver tongue of yours is good for more than pretty words and stories”

She was rapidly making him lose control. He was enamored with her fiery attitude and the playful verbal sparring that she seemed to demand of him. He tried not to play the differences game, a rather petty move in his eyes, but so far the only thing and Dru had in common was their natural sexual energy and ability. He couldn’t be happier that was where the similarities ended. The less he saw of Dru in this girl, the better.

“Oh yes. But I do so love teasing you” He murmured into her flesh, using the tip of his tongue to leave a trail of wetness up her intercrural crease that morphed into hot open mouth kisses up her body until he reached the hem of her uniform. It earned him a desperate panting and sighs of desperation. He chuckled in the back of his throat and began to drop down where she wanted him, taking pity on her.

As he kissed his way down, swearing that he could taste the salt and sunshine of the California coast on her pretty skin, he felt the flex of her hips and her determined need to have him where she wanted him. And she almost did but the timing in the flick of her hips was just a second too quick. Instead of catching his mouth, her pretty outer lips, already soaked with her arousal instead came into contact with his chin, smearing her essence all over it.

She squeaked in surprise; eyes wide as she looked down upon the made she’d made of his face. She started to speak, no doubt an apology but he swiftly cut her off.

“Don’t you dare. Bloody hell woman. If I thought I could get away with wearing you out in public like this I’d do it in a bloody heartbeat”

He inhaled deeply, taking in the aroma of her want for him. Floral and tangy she smelled divine, like some forbidden fruit bursting into sweet summer blossoms. He captured her gaze, glassy emerald eyes trained on his. They bore straight into him, down to her very soul and unfurled some hidden power, some archaic demon that had been asleep within him for too long. It magnified ten-fold when he slipped his tongue out and swiped at what he could get, audibly moaning deep in his throat and causing her to do the same.

 _Mine_ His inner voice echoed

He’d meant to tease her more, work her into a complete frenzy before really setting his tongue to her but something seemed to switch over in his lizard brain after he’d had a taste of her. He dove for her, slick tongue darting to claim his prize, seeking her out like some scent guided missile and when he slipped inside her drenched channel, he knew he was lost to her.

“God yes” He moaned at the same time she cried out “Oh God Spike”

He banded his arms around her thighs, wrapping tightly and drawing her closer. She hooked her ankles around the middle of his back in response and once again threaded her fingers through his hair.

“Knew it” She mumbled, eyes fluttering.

He smirked into her, curling his tongue around her swollen clit and humming in agreement.

Pressed so tightly to her like this with her thighs pressed tightly against his head, he could practically feel her heart thundering all around him. It soon became difficult to distinguish his own pounding heartbeat from the lovely women above him. He delved into her, sliding against her slippery walls, stroking her from the inside out and greedily looking up her near constant flood of nectar. He played no favorites and tended to both sets of her lips _Bubblegum pink,_ to her tight little hole and her pulsing bundle of nerves. She was anything but quiet. In particular she seemed to like it when he drew the flat of his tongue in long slow strokes against her clit, lazily bringing her closer and closer, feeling the tremors run through her with every lick.

“Nnah…Spike. Faster now. Please” She whispered fervently, to which he eagerly complied, using the tip of his tongue to flick her little bead furiously. But when her eyes screwed shut and eyebrows drew together as though she was in pain he reigned it back, instead using cupping strokes against her overly sensitive bud that she responded positively to.

She knew what she wanted, what she needed, and she wasn’t afraid to ask it of him. Already she was teaching him the artistry that was her body and it humbled and empowered him that she freely gave it to him, trusting him with something as sacred as her sex.

This was a confident woman. A bit of a novice when it came to sex, though understandable, given her previous partners. She was however, eager to learn, eager to please. In no way was this a hindrance, it was a soddin gift.

He lifted away from her briefly in order to breath, kiss her outer lips against before parting her silky flesh and diving in once more.

“Getting close” She breathed out raggedly “Go slow again?”

He hummed his agreement and reverted to languid licks, occasionally sucking at her clit, nibbling gently in completely random patterns to through her off and make her moan or gasp. He felt her tumbling into her orgasm when she pressed her thighs so tightly around his head that all he heard were muffled versions of her cries. He lapped her up eagerly, creamy and salty her cum tasted better than any dessert he had the pleasure of tasting and he moaned into her to let her know exactly how much of a gift this was that she gave him. How much he enjoyed being here as opposed to it being some kind of chore.

When her hold on him loosened he broke from her, not to stop, god no he would never be able to stop now that he’d had a taste. As soon as his lungs were full of air he set his tongue to her clit again and unceremoniously slid a finger knuckle deep within her.

“Oh fuck!” She exclaimed, hips surging forward to bring him deeper with her and holy Christ was it hotter than hell watching her fuck herself on his finger. “Oh god Spike, more” She cried above him, still riding the aftershocks of her first orgasm while she tumbled into the next.

Her lovely walls fluttered around the single digit, very nearly crushing it. He could only imagine how she would feel wrapped around his aching cock.

“Like that do you?” A second finger sliding into her wet heat. She felt like liquid fire wrapped around him and when he curled his fingers within her and touched lightly against that hidden bit of spongy flesh she cried out

“Oh goodness” She gasped, chest heaving, eyes wide as he continued to stroke that little bundle “That…that feels incredible baby” Her voice tapering off into a high trill.

He wasn’t sure if he was more chuffed with the fact that he’d obviously been the first to even attempt to seek out and play with her special spot, noting her completely surprised expression and all the wriggling around she was doing, or that she’d called him baby. And yeah, it was likely a soddin heat of the moment king of deal and all that rot but Dru had never called him baby and the effect her pet name had on him made him warm all over.

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers, pressing soft kisses to her swollen lips

“Not felt like his before have you? Not been shown what little pleasure zones you have all over you have you little darling?” He crooned

He removed his drenched fingers, trailing them up to reach her clit and swirled them around in tight controlled circles.

“No” She gasped

He removed them again, a displeased moan coming from her throat, but he’d already gone too long without tasting her and he made a hell of a show sliding those sticky fingers between his lips and sucking them clean. He was never going to forget the way she tasted.

“God that’s hot” She moaned “More Spike. Please more” She whined as her hips raised towards him.

“Want to be all filled up do you?” He trailed long slender fingers back down to her sodden hole and filled her with three. She gasped, a breathy sound and bucked her hips to take them all, eyes alight.

“More” She pleased

“Insatiable little thing” He snarled, barely able to contain himself, the roaring demon within as he added a fourth.

She cried out and set her own fervent rhythm as she swing her hips to meet him. He rubbed her clit with the pad of his thumb on every one of her downswings and continued to rub her internal bundle of nerves until she was tensing up, scrabbling manicured nails over his pale flesh wherever she could.

“Kiss me” She demanded as she neared her peak again

He claimed her lips in a clash of passion and mind addling lust. Bloody hell she was a spitfire of a thing. She came quickly after that, keening into his mouth, vibrations rippling like spiderwebs of electric shocks. His blood was a conduit for all of her heat and energy, and it was all going straight to his prick and god he didn’t think he could get any harder.

She wasted almost no time after coming down from her fourth consecutive orgasm within the pan of twenty off minutes or so. They’d had no interruptions thus far, likely the other bird running interference or summat on their behalf.

Her tiny fist closed around him again, gripping him tightly as she stroked the entirety of his painfully hard and fully engorged prick, the head angry and red and already leaking.

“Need you now. All of you” Her voice ragged but still frightfully demanding. He could feel her muscles quivering from the aftershocks of her pleasure, yet she still seemed to have the stamina she did at the beginning.

“Need me do you?” He purred

“Oh yes. Please yes. Your so good with your fingers. So good with you tongue. I want to tell what you can do with that big thick cock of yours” Her voice sultry and dripping with promise.

He nearly swayed dizzy with lust and drunk on the forwardness of this woman

“Askin for it kitten” He drawled dangerously “You’ll find I’m not always a perfect gentlemen”

Her eyes flashed with a challenging glint and for a moment he himself wondered if he’d gotten himself into something more than he could handle.

“Bring it on Big Bad” She taunted in a low seductive voice

He wasted no time after that. He’d had his slow exploratory time getting to know her, to find where she lived and expose her to things she’d never had before. Now…now he just needed to be in her.

He grabbed ahold of the firm flesh of her thighs and pulled her forward off the edge of the sink so that she crashed against him. Both of their cloth covered chests pressed tight together and he stole a vicious kiss from her, tugging at her bottom lip and nibbling until she opened her mouth in a sigh of pleasure. He took full advantage of it, stroking the inside of her hot mouth in a searing frenzy that had her clawing at the nape of his neck and behind his ears.

She pulled away, chest heaving and struggling to catch her breath and he dove instead for her neck, laying hot open mouth kisses down her jawline before sucking lightly at the junction of her shoulder

“Spike” She shivered in pleasure “Easy on my neck baby. Still gotta work” She reminded him

Right. She was working. This tantalizing little morsel was currently steaming up the employee lavatory with him while she was on duty because she wanted him. Something that he knew other passengers could no doubt guess what was going on and something she could get into trouble over, yet she was turned on by it nonetheless.

“Naughty girl. You want it tho don’t you kitten? Want people to know what you’ve been up to. That you’ve been thoroughly shagged by some stranger on the plane?”

“Oh good god yes” She gasped as he suckled further “Maybe….a little one wouldn’t be so bad” She amended, pushing up on her tiptoes and forcing his mouth against her salt covered skin.

He didn’t want the poor girl to get into too much trouble. Compromising, he drew back the collar of her uniform and sucked hard against her neck, drawing in her skin, pulling blood to the surface. When he released her, he gave the area a kiss and a growl formed deep in his throat at small dark mark against her creamy skin. Her fingers flew to it and she flushed

“Rather like seeing you with my mark. Knowing its there, just under your collar. One accidental brush able to reveal it”

She gasped through parted lips watching him through hooded eyes

“Like that too? Will you look upon it and remember what transpired here? Remember me?” He whispered hopefully, a sudden insecurity falling over him.

She brushed a thumb against it and smiled

“There’s no way I’m ever going to forget you”

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, emotion overwhelming him. He allowed himself a few more moments in that vulnerable state before coming down and raking over her flushed, panting body; warm and ready and willing.

“Good enough for me” He growled, quickly aligning himself with her center and entering her in a single possessive thrust.

For a moment there were no thoughts, no sounds. He could only feel. Impossibly tight and warm, her wet walls trembled and convulsed and shifted to welcome him. She gripped him securely, holding him deep within her and cradling him like she didn’t want to lose him, like he was something precious. She felt like home. He could feel the pounding of her heart through his prick and wondered if it was possible for two hearts who began as strangers to beat in such synchronicity.

Luscious heat surrounded him, and he’d be content to never leave again. Buried within the radiant women below him for the rest of his days. Oh how she glowed.

When he finally dared to look upon her, he feared he had burned himself alive from the light that seemed to emanate from her.

Effulgent.

A word so seldomly used perhaps for its antiquity amongst other similar words in the English language but one that described her better, how she looked at this very moment in a way that no other word could measure up to.

“Effulgent” This time the word tumbling from his lips as he took in her near ethereal form. He heard her voice and little moans of her delight over the sounds of the pounding of his blood and his own labored breathing. How long had he been standing idle while denying her more pleasure?

Her hips were the ones to start moving first, tenuous and slow she found a steady rhythm and he fell into it with her. Long slow glides of hard flesh meeting her molten softness, he basked in the slippery heat of her. He angled his steady thrusts against her as to nudge her swollen clit every time their hips met.

“Oh bloody Christ luv, so bleeding tight you are” He groaned, earning a moan of satisfaction from her. “Sure you haven’t done this before? Or was soldier boys prick just that unimpressive?”

Her responding gaze was piercing, a fierce combination of blinding lust and disbelief

“Definitely done this before” She ground out, punctuating her statement with a fervent twist of her hips as she met him that had him throwing his head back.

“Fuck yes you have” He moaned in agreement, riding with her steady rhythm

“Its been a while” She supplied

“Hmm lucky for me then” He drawled, low and husky, gripping her lower back with hands smoothing over the tops of the firm toned globes of her ass.

“Lucky for you” She echoed “But lucky for me too”

“Yeah? And why’s that?” He asked coyly, pulling himself all the way out of her impossibly tight channel before forcefully shoving the entirety of his length back within her. How deep he was within her tight little cunt. He marveled at the feeling of being buried so far within her gorgeously toned body that his cockhead brushed against the entrance of her womb. Not once did she cringe or complain.

“It makes your pretty cock feel that much bigger”

He inhaled sharply as she continued to sputter off and praise him.

“God I feel so full” She groaned, clawing at him clasping her hands over his ears, circling them under his hairline and brining him towards her in a bruising kiss. He tasted blood. Hers or his he didn’t know but certainly didn’t care.

“And you are aren’t you. Luscious tight cunny all full up of me”

“Ohhhh Spike. Please. Please more” She whined, desperate flicks of her hips against hers

“More eh? Haven’t had your fill?” He thrust sharply into her, his eyes rolling back as her slick heat enveloped him over and over and over again as she took him into her, gasping below him. Those verdant eyes met his, pupils blow and nearly black in her pleasure and filled to the brim with lust.

“No. God No. Need more. Need more of your cock baby. Need you harder. Deeper” She chanted in a low starved moan.

“Gonna get it” He growled possessively. He didn’t want to admit it to her now that the brief spark of fear he saw in her eyes after that made him think of dark, sadistic thoughts of having her in more than one compromising positions.

He pulled out of her silky heat, regretting the loss immediately but thoroughly satisfied when she seemed just as displeased with the loss of him.

“Please” She pleaded, the desperate ache for him clear in her voice.

He’d never felt so needed before, both powerful and utterly powerless to the seraph who was currently staring at his fluid covered cock like it was some holy object of worship. He bobbed under gaze which only served to fuel the desirous look in her eye. The way she grasped at him, her hot fingers gliding over the slickness of him, wrapping her deft fingers around the head of his cock, pumping him hard and fast.

“Ahh” He groaned out “Buffy. Gotta stop luv” he ground out “Gonna make me cum if you keep that up” The pressure building rapidly with each of her strokes.

“Then stop playing around and get back inside me” She growled out

“Christ what a right wonderful bitch you are” He growled in return, roughly grabbing her hips, pulling her flush against him for another bruising kiss before he flipped her so that her stomach was lain across the edge of the sink and her lovely little arse was presented to him.

“Hey” She squealed in outrage which only served to fire him up more

“You love it” His voice low and aggressive, and he scarcely recognized the tone in the heat of the moment. “Look at you luv. Gorgeous pussy all quivering for my prick. Luscious toned arse presented just for me” He noticed then that his accent had gotten dark, taken over the gentle tones he’d been using with the public as of late and reverting back to his roots in Northern London.

He palmed each of her cheeks, digging fingernails into her skin, rewarding him with a series of soft groaning sighs.

“So sensitive” He murmured. Running fingers up the insides of her thighs, over her swollen outer lips and just barely tapping against her clit to which she eagerly rocked back into.

“So bleedin wet for me you are. Dripping down your creamy thighs” He paused a moment, reveled in her intake of breath, how she seemed to hang on his every word. Course. She had expressed her love for this earlier, for the sound of his voice.

“Wish I could spend the entirety of this flight here. Cleaning you up, only to make a right mess of you again” He paused “No. Rather I’d prefer to be here the rest of my days. Never had a women like you. Quite chuffed at how you respond to me”

She glanced over her shoulder, breath coming in heavy pants, a beckoning fire there. Gods did he love the challenge in her eyes. The way her taunt muscles were already coiled as if she was ready to spring at any moment. Amazed that if given the change, she’d turn the tables on him. He could practically feel the way her blood thrummed through her body, hot blooded and pulsing for him.

“Keep talking baby, but fuck me while your doing it” She commanded

The hard wiring in his mind; that need to please and the primal satisfaction that came with satisfying those that commanded it upon him flipped on like a switch.

“Yes goddess” He obeyed and drove into her, sheathing himself again within the inferno of her heat, hips crashing against hers.

“Oh god yes. Yes!” She squealed out. He snickered, because there was no way someone hadn’t heard her and realized what they were doing in her. “God yes Spike. That’s it baby. That’s it. Harder! Faster!”

She whimpered as he set a brutal pace, and all he could hear were commands, her delighted cries of pleasure and the sounds of skin smacking against skin.

“More. Give me everything” Her voice hoarse and sultry and Christ if he didn’t make him impossibly hard, swelling deep within her. It woke some slumbering beast within him that needed her pleasure. Craved her released on a scale unlike anything he’d felt before. He was a slave to her fervent calls.

“Gonna fuck you raw you bloody glorious bitch” He snarled, snapping his hips and angling himself to penetrate deep within her so that she cried out in pain.

For a moment he thought he’d overdone it, ready to beg forgiveness he began to withdraw. Until he heard the low moan in the back of her throat as she bounced back against him, taking him deeper.

“That’s it Buffy. ‘S what you need isn’t it sweetheart. Never had it so good as me. Your boys wouldn’t give you what you wanted. What you needed. Innit that right?”

“Yes” She gasped her eyes fluttering shut.

“Open em pet. Want you to watch. Want you to see what I see” He whispered roughly, his merciless pace never faltering as she ground his hips into hers.

Those eyes opened again. Gods what a vision. He watched her as she watched her own reflection fuck herself on his cock, eyes raking over the utterly perverse display of flesh. He only wished they had taken the time to remove the rest of their clothing so he could see the way her tits bounced to their thrusting. She looked hypnotized and he wondered himself if he had put himself into a trance, watching his own pale flesh meld into her sun kissed skin as she continued their tantric dance. He felt her impossibly tight channel flutter around him, knew that she was close and although he never wanted to let their dance end, he knew that once this was over he’d likely never see her again. The thought was bitter, but he pushed it aside for the moment because he needed to feel her come around him, see what she looked like as she came so he could store it away as possibly the greatest moment of his life.

“Spike. So close. Keep talking to me baby”

Bleeding hell. He was never going to get over the sound of her voice. The sounds she made, the way she looked while she was on the brink of her pleasure. He raised a silent prayer to whatever deity might be willing to listen to the godless heathen he was just so that he could maybe one day see this woman again and then resigned himself to make her completely shatter around him.

“See her?” His voice gruff as he tilted his head towards their reflections. “Goddess is what you are. Soddin vixen of a woman. See her beauty, her pleasure, her strength. She takes what she needs from men like me and makes them beg her for their release. You’ve got so much power goddess. Make them crawl for you”

She wailed again, his name a cry from her lips as she broke and swelled around him, gripping his prick with everything she had.

“Need to feel you come” She was moaning “Want to feel you cum in me Spike. So do it. Cum for me now” Her voice stern and clipped as she came down from her own release.

His body obeyed. Something leftover from his time with Dru and Liam and Darla and the time he had spent as their submissive plaything. He felt the great pleasure that was building up, that he was desperate to hold back until she finally let go. He came with a rush, a full body high after being celibate for so long and emptied into her. She was gripping him so tightly that he thought he might bruise and bloody hell what a satisfying thought that was. What other wonderous things could her gift of a body do that need only be brought out by someone who actually appreciated her.

He’d almost forgotten how much he loved being asked of this. Of the control he gave up in order to please another human being. Bollocks. He was in a lot deeper with this girl than he thought.

“Fuck” She groaned “I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk straight” And she whimpered when he pulled his cock from her, semi hard till and nearly ready to go another round for her.

“Be a fine sight that”

“Maybe for you” She grumbled

They got dressed in comfortable silence, sneaking glanced at each other the entire time. If she knew that he snagged her knickers she didn’t acknowledge it or ask for them back and that thought made him stiffen right back up under his tight jeans.

She rinsed her face and put her golden locks back into something that looked much more professional then the ‘I’ve just been thoroughly shagged look’ from a moment ago. Pity.

“I’ll go out first. Gotta get back to work”

“Course luv. Don’t fancy you getting into trouble causa’me”

She tuned as she went to open the door, a smile on her face

“I’ll see you before you leave. We still have a good 12-hour flight ahead of us. I’ll be sleeping for some of it and you should do the same” She suggested

“Prolly will. Good workout like that and being liquored up should help me get a decent bit of kip” He ran his fingers through disheveled curls, cursing the damn things. “Was planning on working on my book more but….this was so much more enjoyable” He purred

She kissed him quickly, mirth flashing in her eyes as she opened the door, scanning her surroundings before briskly walking away.

He waited there for who knows how long, replaying every soddin pornographic moment of what happened. He’d never expected that on this pissant of a flight that he’d wind up getting a little mile high flight attention from quite possibly the hottest woman he’d ever met. He couldn’t believe that a gorgeous thing like her was able to nearly wipe away the awful memories of Dru that he was trying to escape, maybe even for good.

She’d burrowed her way into him in the very short time he’d come to know her, and he would take the happy memories she gave him and cherish them for the rest of his life. Maybe the two weeks he would spend at the resort in Rio wouldn’t be so bad. He knew there would be no surefire cure for some of the lonely days that would follow. He would continue to be haunted by his past, the swirling lies woven by Drusilla and the hole already forming in his heart when he though of the loss of Buffy. He also felt as though something had truly changed within him. The blackness that clouded his thoughts and hardened his heart was being driven away by the fire and light of one perfect little flight attendant.

He stepped out moments later and without a care of who was looking or not, strode with purpose back to his comfy first-class seat to find a mug sitting on his little desk. Steam was rising from its surface and an English breakfast teabag was already steeping. Little bit of a stereotype of course, but what were stereotypes but common truths. As a properly raised Englishmen he did fancy a good cuppa.

He nursed the thing, staring out at the dark sky until he’d drank all but a scant sip of the earthy liquid that’d gone cold.

Dru’s picture was still taped to the seat beside him. Her ‘presence’ was there as a reminder of what the bitch had done to him and the things she’d made him feel; her betrayal. Now he looked upon her face and well...he still felt betrayed godammit, but the pain didn’t seem so overwhelming now.

He stared at her for a moment loner, her raven colored locks and bright blue eyes that once meant everything to him and found with a startling discovery that they didn’t instill the same feelings they did only hours ago. Her hair look faded, the hue all wrong now and her eyes that had once gleamed like steely sapphires looked dull against her pale face.

 _Huh_ He thought to himself as he grabbed a hold of the picture and ripped it gently of the seat _Well innit that somethin’_

He gazed once more into her eyes before crumpling the photo into a tiny ball. It was freeing, being able to cast away the weight on his heart that she had put there. The shadow that loomed over his mind, pitching him into a seemingly unending nightmare world had been lifted away, all by dazzling rays of golden sun.

He settled instead now into that vacant window seat and took to gazing out the window at the inky blackness of night, soothed by its stillness.

The heavy pull of sleep washed over him. The delicious strain of lovemaking, the quaking orgasms she gifted him after months of celibacy and the JD that was now settled low in the pit of his stomach helped to calm his overactive brain and lull him into a state of near unconsciousness.

He knew that she was likely busy or sleeping or summat, but he needed to see her again before he drifted off. The call button had been pressed before he was aware of what he was doing.

Within moments she was there, tidied up but still wearing that air about her that said she’d been recently shagged.

“Hey” She greeted softly

“Lo Buffy. Thanks for the cuppa luv”

“Your welcome. Figured it would help you sleep. What’cha need?”

“Feelin a mite chilly. Have an extra blanket?”

She scoffed

“You know there’s one in that compartment by your feet right? And a pillow?”

“Is there?” A sly smile crawling across his face.

She rolled her eyes

“You’ve traveled first class more than a hundred times I’m sure. You know that already”

“Caught me. But I couldn’t help myself luv. Wanted to see you again” He murmured sleepily

Her face softened, her big green eyes flashing with a tenderness that reminded him of a lovers look and bleedin hell it had to be a crime the way she could make his heart flutter like this.

_Sound like a right clingy git though, don’t I?_

“You’re such a sweetie. Now get some sleep William” She whispered, leaning down to place a chaste kiss to his lips.

He had the urge to fight her on the use of his real name, letting her know already that he preferred Spike, but let it go when he realized he was too tired to fight her on it and more importantly that he lost the urge when she looked at him like that.

When he came to, the dark outside had receded to light and pale sunbeams shone through the window. Also the plane didn’t seem to be moving anymore. Sounds filtered back in and he heard the commotion of people talking the gathering of things.

_Bollocks. Suppose its time to get packed up ole chap. All good things come to an end eh? What did Frost say? Nothing gold can stay?_

For once, he hadn’t woken up screaming.

He hadn’t seen Buffy so far but imagined that she was busy getting everyone take care of as they started to file out of the plane. Faith stole a glance at him as he was packing, giving him a knowing smile, looking at him as though she’d undone his clothing with just her piercing gaze before moving on to help an elderly chap get his luggage.

In only a matter of minutes he too would be herded off the plane, getting more knowing glances now from people who must have recognized him. Their gazes weren’t the ones he was looking for though. His heart sank. Not like she had pinkie promised him or anythin’ that she’d definitely see him before he had to go but he was hoping to get at least one last look at her, maybe a quick snog to remember her b before he never saw the chit again.

He waited stoically after leaving the terminal, watching the rest of the plane’s passengers filter out in a single file line, hoping for one last glance of her. Checking the clock on the wall he noted the time. His car was due to be here any moment but the risk of being late was worth it if he could just see her again. But as the time passed and still there was no sight of her he sighed dejectedly, ready to traverse the strange airport armed with a decent grasp of the Spanish language.

A tap to the shoulder brought him out of his dazed stupor. Fully expecting it to be a fan of his books he cocked his head to the right, only to find soft lips pressed against his own.

 _Thank Christ_ He groaned and melted into her kiss. There was no mistaking the feel of her mouth against his as she flicked her tongue against the seam of his kips and entered without a fight. Sluggishly he dragged his tongue across her own, moaning into her and shifting to full her frame tightly against his own.

He wondered what they looked like to everyone else. A reunion of lovers perhaps? The way the passion flowed from her into him ignited fire in his veins and sent blood rushing to his groin. Hard as nails from just one kiss as she rubbed against him. He was completely and utterly lost for this girl.

She pulled away first, biting at her bottom lip and tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. _Huh_. Had he noticed the little pink studs in her ears before?

“Sorry it took me so long. I’m really glad I managed to catch you”

“’S alright pet. Here now and that’s what matters”

“You take care of yourself okay? I don’t want to see anything in the news about you that isn’t reward related”

“Wont. Got a new perspective of things”

Her eyes bore into his, pools of molten jade alright from desire and affection, seemingly trying to determine the very nature of his soul. “I promise luv” He murmured sternly and threaded fingers through her silky locks.

“No time for a quick shag is there?” He asked hopefully

She chortled

“Down boy. Unfortunately not. I really wish there was, but I need to be back on the plane asap. And I’m sure you need to get going as well. That two-week trip to Rio isn’t going to take itself”

“Right. Well at least I tried” He spoke with a halfhearted smile

She placed a soft hand on his cheek, brushing her thumb against razor sharp cheekbones.

“I meant what I said. I’ll never forget you” Her voice

“Same luv. Woman like you is one of a bloody kind. I hope the next bloke appreciates you ore than your tin soldier. Treats you like a goddess. Like you’re his sun and bloody stars”

“Thanks and you…I’m really sorry about what happened with Drusilla. You’re a really good guy She was crazy to give someone like you up. I can’t even imagine spending so much time with someone and have them through it all away. Especially for sex with another guy. I find it statistically improbable that there is someone out there better than you”

“Lotta blokes out there pet. Its statistically probable that you will”

She shook her head

“I don’t think so”

“Ta pet. Means a lot. Hell’uva ego boost”

Leaning in gently she kissed him tenderly on his lips, still swollen and slightly chapped but they felt like bloody paradise. Despite the fact that he was unlikely ever to see her again, her kiss didn’t remind him of a forever kind of goodbye. Rather it felt like the parting of who lovers for a few short hours, expected to return home to each other’s arms. It was soft and sweet and comforting, and he found his eyes prickling a bit at the intensity of it.

“Goodbye Spike. I’ll keep an eye out for your new book. I’m really looking forward to reading it”

“Goodbye Buffy. Take care, and stay safe”

She gave him one more heartfelt smile before turning and walking away. His heart clenched tightly as she made her way back into the connecting tunnel and out of his vision.

It wasn’t until much later, after checking into his hotel and set up his laptop to get some work done that he found a tiny slip of paper wedged in between the closed lid of the machine. Grasping it hesitantly he found scrawled in a swirly looping pen and written in shiny pink was a phone number.

_Call or text me anytime <3_

_-Buffy_

“Little minx” He muttered to himself with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs Used:
> 
> Drunk on a Plane - Dierks Bently  
> Mickey Mouse is Dead - Subhumans
> 
> Quotes from:  
> Entropy
> 
> Already working on the next chapter. It will be a direct sequel to this one!


End file.
